Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

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Walt Whitman (May 31, 1819 – March 26, 1892) was an American poet, essayist, and journalist. A humanist, he was a part of the transition between transcendentalism and realism, incorporating both views in his works. Whitman is among the most influential poets in the American canon, often called the father of free verse.
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O Me! O Life!

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O ME
O life
… of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill'd with the         foolish;
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When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloomd

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When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d—and yet shall mourn with ever-returning -returning spring
trinity sure to me you bring;
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As I Ebbd With the Ocean of Life

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As I ebb'd with the ocean of life,
As I wended the shores I know,
As I walk'd where the ripples continually wash you Paumanok,
Where they rustle up hoarse and sibilant,
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Proud Music Of The Storm

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UD music of the storm
Blast that careers so free, whistling across the prairies
Strong hum of forest tree-tops
Wind of the mountains
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I Sing The Body Electric

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I sing the Body electric;
The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them;
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the        Soul
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Ones Self I Sing

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LF I sing—a simple, separate Person;
Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-masse
Of Physiology from top to toe I sing;
Not physiognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the muse—I say         the Form complete is worthier far;
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Me Imperturbe

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ME imperturbe, 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 as they,
Finding my occupation, poverty, notoriety, foibles, crimes, le...
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Song At Sunset

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OR of ended day, floating and filling me
Hour prophetic—hour resuming the past
Inflating my throat—you, divine average
You,
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Out of the Rolling Ocean The Crowd

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Out of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me,
Whispering,
I love you, before long I die,
I have travel'd a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you,
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The Unexpressed

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How dare one say it
After the cycles, poems, singers, plays,
Vaunted Ionia's,
India's -Homer,
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Song of Myself

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I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you
I loafe and invite my soul,
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Come Said My Soul

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Come, said my soul,
Such verses for my body let us write, (For we are One),
That should I after death invisibly return,
Or, long, long hence, in other spheres,
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I Sit And Look Out

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I
IT 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;
I see, in low life, the mother misused by...
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Unfolded Out Of The Folds

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ED 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;
Unfolded out of the friendliest woman, is to come the...
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Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking

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Out of the cradle endlessly rocking, Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle, Out of the Ninth-month midnight, Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child leaving his bed wander'd alone, bareheaded, barefoot, Down f...
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I Hear It Was Charged Against Me

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I
AR it was charged against me that I sought to destroy         institutions;
But really I am neither for nor against institutions;(What indeed have I in common with them
—Or what with the         destruction of them
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