Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
Song Of Myself, XLIV
It is time to explain myself—let us stand up.What is known I strip away,I launch all men and women forward with me into the Unknown.The clock..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XLIII
I do not despise you priests, all time, the world over,My faith is the greatest of faiths and the least of faiths,Enclosing worship ancient and..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XLII
A call in the midst of the crowd,My own voice, orotund sweeping and final.Come my children,Come my boys and girls, my women, household and..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XLI
I am he bringing help for the sick as they pant on their backs,And for strong upright men I bring yet more needed help.I heard what was said of the..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XL
Flaunt of the sunshine I need not your bask—lie over!You light surfaces only, I force surfaces and depths also.Earth! you seem to look for something..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXXIX
The friendly and flowing savage, who is he?Is he waiting for civilization, or past it and mastering it?Is he some Southwesterner rais'd out-doors? is..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXXVIII
Enough! enough! enough!Somehow I have been stunn'd. Stand back!Give me a little time beyond my cuff'd head, slumbers, dreams, gaping,I discover..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXXVII
You laggards there on guard! look to your arms!In at the conquer'd doors they crowd! I am possess'd!Embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering,See..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXXVI
Stretch'd and still lies the midnight,Two great hulls motionless on the breast of the darkness,Our vessel riddled and slowly sinking, preparations to..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXXV
Would you hear of an old-time sea-fight?Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars?List to the yarn, as my grandmother's father the..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXXIV
Now I tell what I knew in Texas in my early youth,(I tell not the fall of Alamo,Not one escaped to tell the fall of Alamo,The hundred and fifty are..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXXIII
Space and Time! now I see it is true, what I guess'd at,What I guess'd when I loaf'd on the grass,What I guess'd while I lay alone in my bed,And..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXXII
I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd,I stand and look at them long and long.They do not sweat and whine..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXXI
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars,And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXX
All truths wait in all things,They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it,They do not need the obstetric forceps of the surgeon,The..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XXIX
Blind loving wrestling touch, sheath'd hooded sharp-tooth'd touch!Did it make you ache so, leaving me?Parting track'd by arriving, perpetual payment..
© Walt Whitman
Election Day, November, 1884
If I should need to name, O Western World, your powerfulest scene and show,‘Twould not be you, Niagara—nor you, ye limitless prairies—nor your huge..
© Walt Whitman
Broadway
What hurrying human tides, or day or night!What passions, winnings, losses, ardors, swim thy waters!What whirls of evil, bliss and sorrow, stem..
© Walt Whitman
Washington's Monument, February, 1885
Ah, not this marble, dead and cold:Far from its base and shaft expanding—the round zones circling,comprehending,Thou, Washington, art all the..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XIX
This is the meal equally set, this the meat for natural hunger,It is for the wicked just the same as the righteous, I make appoint- ments with all,I..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XVIII
With music strong I come, with my cornets and my drums,I play not marches for accepted victors only, I play marches for conquer'd and slain..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XVII
These are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me,If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XVI
I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise,Regardless of others, ever regardful of others,Maternal as well as paternal, a child as..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XV
The pure contralto sings in the organ loft,The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane whistles its wild ascending lisp,The married..
© Walt Whitman
Song Of Myself, XIII
The negro holds firmly the reins of his four horses, the block swags underneath on its tied-over chain,The negro that drives the long dray of the..
© Walt Whitman