Life poems
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Proud Music of The Storm.
© Walt Whitman
1
PROUD music of the storm!
Blast that careers so free, whistling across the prairies!
Strong hum of forest tree-tops! Wind of the mountains!
Sleepers, The.
© Walt Whitman
1
I WANDER all night in my vision,
Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and stopping,
Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of sleepers,
Drum-Taps.
© Walt Whitman
1
FIRST, O songs, for a prelude,
Lightly strike on the stretchd tympanum, pride and joy in my city,
How she led the rest to armshow she gave the cue,
Spontaneous Me.
© Walt Whitman
SPONTANEOUS me, Nature,
The loving day, the mounting sun, the friend I am happy with,
The arm of my friend hanging idly over my shoulder,
The hill-side whitend with blossoms of the mountain ash,
Myself and Mine.
© Walt Whitman
MYSELF and mine gymnastic ever,
To stand the cold or heatto take good aim with a gunto sail a boatto
manage
horsesto beget superb children,
Passage to India.
© Walt Whitman
1
SINGING my days,
Singing the great achievements of the present,
Singing the strong, light works of engineers,
As I Sat Alone by Blue Ontarios Shores.
© Walt Whitman
1
AS I sat alone, by blue Ontarios shore,
As I mused of these mighty days, and of peace returnd, and the dead that return no
more,
Unnamed Lands.
© Walt Whitman
NATIONS ten thousand years before These States, and many times ten thousand years before
These
States;
Garnerd clusters of ages, that men and women like us grew up and traveld their
Of Him I Love Day and Night.
© Walt Whitman
OF him I love day and night, I dreamd I heard he was dead;
And I dreamd I went where they had buried him I lovebut he was not in that
place;
And I dreamd I wanderd, searching among burial-places, to find him;
To Think of Time.
© Walt Whitman
1
TO think of timeof all that retrospection!
To think of to-day, and the ages continued henceforward!
To a Stranger.
© Walt Whitman
PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recalld as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
A Woman Waits for Me.
© Walt Whitman
A WOMAN waits for meshe contains all, nothing is lacking,
Yet all were lacking, if sex were lacking, or if the moisture of the right man were
lacking.
To a Historian.
© Walt Whitman
YOU who celebrate bygones!
Who have explored the outward, the surfaces of the racesthe life that has
exhibited itself;
Who have treated of man as the creature of politics, aggregates, rulers and
Faces.
© Walt Whitman
1
SAUNTERING the pavement, or riding the country by-roadlo! such faces!
Faces of friendship, precision, caution, suavity, ideality;
The spiritual, prescient facethe always welcome, common, benevolent face,
When I read the Book.
© Walt Whitman
WHEN I read the book, the biography famous,
And is this, then, (said I,) what the author calls a mans life?
And so will some one, when I am dead and gone, write my life?
(As if any man really knew aught of my life;
I Sit and Look Out.
© Walt Whitman
I SIT and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with themselves, remorseful after
deeds
done;
Long I Thought that Knowledge.
© Walt Whitman
LONG I thought that knowledge alone would suffice meO if I could but obtain
knowledge!
Then my lands engrossed meLands of the prairies, Ohios land, the southern
savannas,
Poem of Joys.
© Walt Whitman
1
O TO make the most jubilant poem!
Even to set off these, and merge with these, the carols of Death.
O full of music! full of manhood, womanhood, infancy!
So Long.
© Walt Whitman
1
TO concludeI announce what comes after me;
I announce mightier offspring, orators, days, and then, for the present, depart.
Adieu to a Soldier.
© Walt Whitman
ADIEU, O soldier!
You of the rude campaigning, (which we shared,)
The rapid march, the life of the camp,
The hot contention of opposing frontsthe long manoeuver,
