Love poems
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A Riddle Song.
© Walt Whitman
THAT which eludes this verse and any verse,
Unheard by sharpest ear, unformd in clearest eye or cunningest mind,
Nor lore nor fame, nor happiness nor wealth,
And yet the pulse of every heart and life throughout the world incessantly,
On Journeys Through The States.
© Walt Whitman
ON journeys through the States we start,
(Ay, through the worldurged by these songs,
Sailing henceforth to every landto every sea;)
We, willing learners of all, teachers of all, and lovers of all.
A Song.
© Walt Whitman
1
COME, I will make the continent indissoluble;
I will make the most splendid race the sun ever yet shone upon;
I will make divine magnetic lands,
To Him that was Crucified.
© Walt Whitman
MY spirit to yours, dear brother;
Do not mind because many, sounding your name, do not understand you;
I do not sound your name, but I understand you, (there are others also;)
I specify you with joy, O my comrade, to salute you, and to salute those who are with you,
To the Garden the World.
© Walt Whitman
TO the garden, the world, anew ascending,
Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding,
The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being,
Curious, here behold my resurrection, after slumber;
I am He that Aches with Love.
© Walt Whitman
I AM he that aches with amorous love;
Does the earth gravitate? Does not all matter, aching, attract all matter?
So the Body of me, to all I meet, or know.
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!
I Dreamd in a Dream.
© Walt Whitman
I DREAMD in a dream, I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the whole of the rest of
the
earth;
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,
City of Orgies.
© Walt Whitman
CITY of orgies, walks and joys!
City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst will one day make you illustrious,
Not the pageants of younot your shifting tableaux, your spectacles, repay me;
Not the interminable rows of your housesnor the ships at the wharves,
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,
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,
Mannahatta.
© Walt Whitman
I WAS asking for something specific and perfect for my city,
Whereupon, lo! upsprang the aboriginal name!
Now I see what there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane, unruly, musical, self-sufficient;
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
Unfolded Out of the Folds.
© Walt Whitman
UNFOLDED out of the folds of the woman, man comes unfolded, and is always to
come unfolded;
Unfolded only out of the superbest woman of the earth, is to come the superbest
man of the earth;
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;
This Compost.
© Walt Whitman
1
SOMETHING startles me where I thought I was safest;
I withdraw from the still woods I loved;
I will not go now on the pastures to walk;
