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Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

Book XX. By The Roadside: The Runner

On a flat road runs the well-train’d runner,
He is lean and sinewy with muscular legs,
He is thinly clothed, he leans forward as he runs,
With lightly closed fists and arms partially rais’d.

Leaves of Grass

#Americans #XIXCentury #1855 #LeavesOfGrass

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Other works by Walt Whitman...
Song of Myself, XXIV

Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhat… Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating… No sentimentalist, no stander abov… No more modest than immodest. Unscrew the locks from the doors!
 1
Book XXXV. Good-Bye My Fancy: An Ended Day

The soothing sanity and blitheness… The pomp and hurried contest-glare… Now triumph! transformation! jubil…
Book XXIV. Autumn Rivulets: Kosmos

Who includes diversity and is Nat… Who is the amplitude of the earth,… the earth, and the great charity o… Who has not look’d forth from the… whose brain held audience with mes…
To the Reader at Parting

NOW, dearest comrade, lift me to… We must separate awhile—Here! tak… Whoever you are, I give it especi… So long!—And I hope we shall meet…
 1
A Leaf of Faces

SAUNTERING the pavement, or r… road—lo! such faces! Faces of friendship, precision, ca… ideality; The spiritual prescient face—the a…
Song of Myself, LI

The past and present wilt’€”I hav… And proceed to fill my next fold o… Listener up there! what have you t… Look in my face while I snuff the… (Talk honestly, no one else hears…
In Former Songs

IN former songs Pride have I sun… Life, But here I twine the strands of P… And now, Life, Pride, Love, Patr… To you, O FREEDOM, purport of…
 1
Book XXI. Drum-Taps: Eighteen Sixty-One (1861)

Arm’d year—year of the struggle, No dainty rhymes or sentimental lo… Not you as some pale poetling seat… But as a strong man erect, clothed… rifle on your shoulder,
Leaves of Grass

O sun of real peace! O Hastening… O free and extatic! O what I here… O the sun of the world will ascend… O so amazing and broad—up there re… O vision prophetic, stagger’d with…
Book I. Inscriptions: As I Ponder’d in Silence

As I ponder’d in silence, Returning upon my poems, consideri… A Phantom arose before me, with d… Terrible in beauty, age, and power… The genius of poets of old lands,
 1
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Book XXX. Whispers of Heavenly Death: Quicksand Years

Quicksand years that whirl me I k… Your schemes, politics, fail, line… Only the theme I sing, the great… One’s-self must never give way—tha… all is sure,
 1
Book XXXV. Good-Bye My Fancy: “The Rounded Catalogue Divine Complete”

The devilish and the dark, the dyi… The countless (nineteen-twentieths… The crazed, prisoners in jail, the… Venom and filth, serpents, the rav… (What is the part the wicked and t…
 1
The Three Musicians, by Diego Velázquez
Book I. Inscriptions: Poets to Come

Poets to come! orators, singers, m… Not to-day is to justify me, and a… But you, a new brood, native, athl… Arouse! Arouse—for you must justi… I myself but write one or two indi…
 1
Or From That Sea of Time

OR, from that Sea of Time, Spray, blown by the wind—a double… (O little shells, so curious-convo… Yet will you not, to the tympans o… Murmurs and echoes still bring up—…
Book XXX. Whispers of Heavenly Death: O Living Always, Always Dying

O living always, always dying! O the burials of me past and prese… O me while I stride ahead, materi… O me, what I was for years, now d… O to disengage myself from those c…



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