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Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

This Day, O Soul

THIS day, O soul, I give you a wondrous mirror;
Long in the dark, in tarnish and cloud it lay—But the cloud
        has pass’d, and the tarnish gone;
…Behold, O soul! it is now a clean and bright mirror,
Faithfully showing you all the things of the world.

Sequel to Drum-Taps

#Americans #XIXCentury

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Autres oeuvres par Walt Whitman...
Song of Myself, XII

The butcher-boy puts off his killi… I loiter enjoying his repartee and… Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy… Each has his main-sledge, they are… From the cinder-strew’d threshold…
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: The Calming Thought of All

That coursing on, whate’er men’s s… Amid the changing schools, theolog… Amid the bawling presentations new… The round earth’s silent vital law…
To Oratists

TO ORATISTS—to male or female… Vocalism, measure, concentration,… to use words. Are you full-lung’d and limber-lip… practice? from physique?
Book V. Calamus: Of the Terrible Doubt of Apperarances

Of the terrible doubt of appearanc… Of the uncertainty after all—that… That may-be reliance and hope are… That may-be identity beyond the gr… May-be the things I perceive—the…
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Book XXXIII. Songs Of Parting: Song at Sunset

Splendor of ended day floating and… Hour prophetic, hour resuming the… Inflating my throat, you divine av… You earth and life till the last r… Open mouth of my soul uttering gla…
Song of Myself, X

Alone far in the wilds and mountai… Wandering amazed at my own lightne… In the late afternoon choosing a s… Kindling a fire and broiling the f… Falling asleep on the gather’d lea…
Says

I SAY whatever tastes sweet to t… —That is finally right. I SAY the human shape or face is… never be made ridiculous; I say for ornaments nothing outré…
Book XXXII. From Noon to Starry Night: Weave In, My Hardy Life

Weave in, weave in, my hardy life, Weave yet a soldier strong and ful… Weave in red blood, weave sinews i… Weave lasting sure, weave day and… weave, tire not,
Time to Come

O, Death! a black and pierceless… Hangs round thee, and the future s… No eye may see, no mind may grasp That mystery of fate. This braid, which now alternate th…
Book V. Calamus: When I Heard at the Close of the Day

When I heard at the close of the… with plaudits in the capitol, stil… follow’d, And else when I carous’d, or when… was not happy,
Tears

Tears! tears! tears! In the night, in solitude, tears; On the white shore dripping, dripp… Tears—not a star shining—all dark… Moist tears from the eyes of a muf…
Book XXIV. Autumn Rivulets: As Consequent, Etc.

As consequent from store of summer… Or wayward rivulets in autumn flow… Or many a herb—lined brook’s retic… Or subterranean sea—rills making f… Songs of continued years I sing.
Song of Myself, XX

Who goes there? hankering, gross,… How is it I extract strength from… What is a man anyhow? what am I?… All I mark as my own you shall of… Else it were time lost listening t…
Book IV. Children of Adam: Facing West From California’s Shores

Facing west, from California’s sh… Inquiring, tireless, seeking what… I, a child, very old, over waves,… land of migrations, look afar, Look off the shores of my Western…
Song of Myself, III

I have heard what the talkers were… beginning and the end But I do not talk of the beginnin… There was never any more inception… Nor any more youth or age than the…
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