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Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

Book XX. By The Roadside: To Rich Givers

What you give me, I cheerfully accept,
  A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money—these, as I
        rendezvous with my poems;
  A traveler’s lodging and breakfast as I journey through The States—
        Why should I be ashamed to own such gifts? Why to advertise for
        them?
  For I myself am not one who bestows nothing upon man and woman;
  For I bestow upon any man or woman the entrance to all the gifts of
        the universe.

#1855 #AmericanWriters #LeavesOfGrass

Altre opere di Walt Whitman...
Book XXXII. From Noon to Starry Night: Thou Orb Aloft Full-Dazzling

Thou orb aloft full-dazzling! thou… Flooding with sheeny light the gra… The sibilant near sea with vistas… And tawny streaks and shades and s… O sun of noon refulgent! my specia…
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Book V. Calamus: Here the Frailest Leaves of Me

Here the frailest leaves of me, an… Here I shade and hide my thoughts… And yet they expose me more than a…
Book XXVIII: Transpositions

Let the reformers descend from the… bawling—let an idiot or insane per… Let judges and criminals be transp… in prison—let those that were pris… Let them that distrust birth and d…
Book III: Song of Myself (1– 36)

I celebrate myself, and sing mysel… And what I assume you shall assum… For every atom belonging to me as… I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observ…
 2
 8
Book XXXIV. Sands At Seventy: To Those Who’ve Fail’d

To those who’ve fail’d, in aspirat… To unnam’d soldiers fallen in fron… To calm, devoted engineers—to over… their ships, To many a lofty song and picture w…
Hours Continuing Long

HOURS continuing long, sore and… Hours of the dusk, when I withdra… spot, seating myself, leaning my f… Hours sleepless, deep in the night… the country roads, or through the…
Song of Myself, XXIII

Endless unfolding of words of ages… And mine a word of the modern, the… A word of the faith that never bal… Here or henceforward it is all the… It alone is without flaw, it alone…
Book VIII: Crossing Brooklyn Ferry

Flood-tide below me! I see you fa… Clouds of the west—sun there half… Crowds of men and women attired in… On the ferry-boats the hundreds an… And you that shall cross from shor…
Book XXXV. Good-Bye My Fancy: The Pallid Wreath

Somehow I cannot let it go yet, f… Let it remain back there on its na… With pink, blue, yellow, all blanc… One wither’d rose put years ago fo… But I do not forget thee. Hast th…
 1
Book XIX. Sea-Drift: To the Man-Of-War-Bird

Thou who hast slept all night upon… Waking renew’d on thy prodigious p… (Burst the wild storm? above it th… And rested on the sky, thy slave t… Now a blue point, far, far in heav…
Leaves of Grass

Come, said my Soul Such verses for my Body let us wr… That should I after death invisib… Or, long, long hence, in other sph… There to some group of mates the c…
 2
Book IV. Children of Adam: Native Moments

Native moments—when you come upon… Give me now libidinous joys only, Give me the drench of my passions,… To-day I go consort with Nature’s… I am for those who believe in loos…
Book XXX. Whispers of Heavenly Death: Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours

Yet, yet, ye downcast hours, I kn… Weights of lead, how ye clog and c… Earth to a chamber of mourning tur… voice, Matter is conqueror—matter, triump…
Book XIX. Sea-Drift: Song for All Seas, All Ships

To-day a rude brief recitative, Of ships sailing the seas, each wi… Of unnamed heroes in the ships—of… as the eye can reach, Of dashing spray, and the winds pi…
Book XXIV. Autumn Rivulets: Old Ireland

Far hence amid an isle of wondrous… Crouching over a grave an ancient… Once a queen, now lean and tatter’… Her old white hair drooping dishev… At her feet fallen an unused royal…
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