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Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

This Day, O Soul

THIS day, O soul, I give you a wondrous mirror;
Long in the dark, in tarnish and cloud it lay—But the cloud
        has pass’d, and the tarnish gone;
…Behold, O soul! it is now a clean and bright mirror,
Faithfully showing you all the things of the world.

Sequel to Drum-Taps

#AmericanWriters #XIXCentury

Other works by Walt Whitman...
Burial

1 To think of it! To think of time—of all that retro… To think of to—day and the ages co… forward! 2 Have you guess’d you yourself w…
Solid, Ironical, Rolling Orb

SOLID, ironical, rolling orb! Master of all, and matter of fact!… terms; Bringing to practical, vulgar test… dreams,
States!

STATES! Were you looking to be held togeth… By an agreement on a paper? Or by… Away! I arrive, bringing these, beyond a…
Book XXXII. From Noon to Starry Night: Ah Poverties, Wincings Sulky Retreats

Ah poverties, wincings, and sulky… Ah you foes that in conflict have… (For what is my life or any man’s… the incessant war?) You degradations, you tussle with…
Song of Myself, XXIII

Endless unfolding of words of ages… And mine a word of the modern, the… A word of the faith that never bal… Here or henceforward it is all the… It alone is without flaw, it alone…
Song of Myself, XXXVII

You laggards there on guard! look… In at the conquer’d doors they cro… Embody all presences outlaw’d or s… See myself in prison shaped like a… And feel the dull unintermitted pa…
Book XX. By The Roadside: To Old Age

I see in you the estuary that enla… in the great sea.
 1
Book XXXV. Good-Bye My Fancy: L. Of G.’S Purport

Not to exclude or demarcate, or pi… masses (even to expose them,) But add, fuse, complete, extend—an… To span vast realms of space and t… Evolution—the cumulative—growths a…
Book XX. By The Roadside: Germs

Forms, qualities, lives, humanity,… The ones known, and the ones unkno… The stars themselves, some shaped,… Wonders as of those countries, the… whatever they may be,
Leaves of Grass

Come, said my Soul Such verses for my Body let us wr… That should I after death invisib… Or, long, long hence, in other sph… There to some group of mates the c…
 2
Book XXX. Whispers of Heavenly Death: That Music Always Round Me

That music always round me, unceas… I did not hear, But now the chorus I hear and am… A tenor, strong, ascending with po… daybreak I hear,
Book XXIV. Autumn Rivulets: Sparkles From the Wheel

Where the city’s ceaseless crowd m… Withdrawn I join a group of child… By the curb toward the edge of the… A knife-grinder works at his wheel… Bending over he carefully holds it…
 1
Book XXXV. Good-Bye My Fancy: To the Pending Year

Have I no weapon-word for thee—so… (Have I fought out and done indee… For all thy affectations, lisps, s… Nor for myself—my own rebellious s… Down, down, proud gorge!—though ch…
Book I. Inscriptions: To a Historian

You who celebrate bygones, Who have explored the outward, the… has exhibited itself, Who have treated of man as the cre… and priests,
Song of Myself, XXIV

Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhat… Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating… No sentimentalist, no stander abov… No more modest than immodest. Unscrew the locks from the doors!
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