Tag Archives: Walt Whitman

You felons on trial in courts

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) You felons on trial in courts, You convicts in prison-cells, you sentenced assassins chain’d and handcuff’d with iron, Who am I too that I am not on … Continue reading

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Beginning my studies

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) Beginning my studies the first step pleas’d me so much, The mere fact consciousness, these forms, the power of motion, The least insect or animal, the senses,eyesight … Continue reading

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The Dismantled Ship

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   In some unused lagoon, some nameless bay, On sluggish, lonesome waters, anchor’d near the shore, An old, dismasted, gray and batter’d ship, disabled, done, After … Continue reading

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Life

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Ever the undiscouraged, resolute, struggling soul of man; (Have former armies fail’d? Then we send fresh armies – and fresh again;) Ever grappled mystery of all … Continue reading

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Tests

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   All submit to them where they sit, inner, secure, unapproachable to analysis in the soul, Not traditions, not the outer authorities are the judges, They are … Continue reading

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Year that Trembled and Reel’d beneath Me

  …from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Year that Trembled and Reel’d beneath Me! Your summer wind was warm enough, yet the air I breathed froze me, A thick gloom fell through … Continue reading

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To Him That was Crucified

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   My spirits to yours dear brother, Do not mind because many sounding your name do not understand you, I do not sound your name, but I … Continue reading

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To Rich Givers

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   What you give me I cheerfully accept, A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money, as I rendezvous with my poems, A traveler’s lodging … Continue reading

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Youth, Day, Old Age and Night

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Youth, large, lusty, loving – youth full of grace, force, fascination, Do you know that Old Age may come after you with equal grace, force, fascination? … Continue reading

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When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) When I heard the learn’d astronomer, When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me, When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, … Continue reading

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To a President

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   All you are doing and saying is to America dangled mirages, You have not learn’d of Nature – of the politics of Nature You have not … Continue reading

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That Shadow of My Likeness

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   That shadow my likeness that goes to and fro seeking a livelihood, chattering, chaffering, How often I find myself standing and looking at it where it … Continue reading

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Quicksand Years

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Quicksand years that whirl me I know not whither, Your schemes, politics, fail, lines give way, substances mock and elude me, Only the scheme I sing, … Continue reading

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Tears

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Tears! tears! tears! In the night, in solitude, tears, On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck’d in by the sand Tears, not a star shining, all … Continue reading

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Grand is the Seen

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Grand is the seen, the light, to me – grand are the sky and stars, Grand is the earth, and grand are lasting time and space, … Continue reading

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An Old Man’s Thought of School

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   An old man’s thought of school, An old man gathering youthful memories and blooms that youth itself cannot. Now only do I know you, O fair … Continue reading

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A Christmas Greeting

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) Welcome, Brazilian brother – thy ample place is ready; A loving hand – a smile from the north – a sunny instant hail! (Let the future care … Continue reading

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Savantism

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   Thither as I look I see each result and glory retracing itself and nestling close, always obligated, Thither hours, months, years – thither trades, compacts, establishments, … Continue reading

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Me impertube

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892) Me impertube, standing at ease in Nature, Master of all or mistress of all, aplomb in the midst of irrational things, Imbued as they, passive, receptive, silent … Continue reading

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I hear It was Charged against Me

…from the quills of the dead white poets Walt Whitman (1819 – 1892)   I hear it was charged against me that I sought to destroy institutions, But really I am neither for nor against institutions, (What indeed have I … Continue reading

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