All Poems
/ page 1491 of 3210 /Thick-Sprinkled Bunting.
© Walt Whitman
THICK-SPRINKLED bunting! Flag of stars!
Long yet your road, fateful flag!long yet your road, and lined with bloody death!
For the prize I see at issue, at last is the world!
All its ships and shores I see, interwoven with your threads, greedy banner!
Sing of the Banner at Day-Break.
© Walt Whitman
POET.
O A NEW song, a free song,
Flapping, flapping, flapping, flapping, by sounds, by voices clearer,
By the winds voice and that of the drum,
Base of all Metaphysics, The.
© Walt Whitman
AND now, gentlemen,
A word I give to remain in your memories and minds,
As base, and finale too, for all metaphysics.
Now List to my Mornings Romanza.
© Walt Whitman
1
NOW list to my mornings romanzaI tell the signs of the Answerer;
To the cities and farms I sing, as they spread in the sunshine before me.
Inscription.
© Walt Whitman
SMALL is the theme of the following Chant, yet the greatestnamely,
Ones-Selfthat wondrous thing a simple, separate person. That, for the use of
the
New World, I sing.
Sobbing of The Bells, The.
© Walt Whitman
THE sobbing of the bells, the sudden death-news everywhere,
The slumberers rouse, the rapport of the People,
(Full well they know that message in the darkness,
Full well return, respond within their breasts, their brains, the sad reverberations,)
The passionate toll and clangcity to city, joining, sounding, passing,
Those heart-beats of a Nation in the night.
Apostroph.
© Walt Whitman
O MATER! O fils!
O brood continental!
O flowers of the prairies!
O space boundless! O hum of mighty products!
A Paumanok Picture.
© Walt Whitman
TWO boats with nets lying off the sea-beach, quite still,
Ten fishermen waitingthey discover a thick school of mossbonkersthey drop the
joind seine-ends in the water,
The boats separate and row off, each on its rounding course to the beach, enclosing the
Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours.
© Walt Whitman
1
YET, yet, ye downcast hours, I know ye also;
Weights of lead, how ye clog and cling at my ankles!
Earth to a chamber of mourning turnsI hear the oerweening, mocking voice,
As a Strong Bird on Pinions Free.
© Walt Whitman
1
AS a strong bird on pinions free,
Joyous, the amplest spaces heavenward cleaving,
Such be the thought Id think to-day of thee, America,
Hours Continuing Long.
© Walt Whitman
HOURS continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted,
Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented spot, seating myself,
leaning
my face in my hands;
Delicate Cluster.
© Walt Whitman
DELICATE cluster! flag of teeming life!
Covering all my lands! all my sea-shores lining!
Flag of death! (how I watchd you through the smoke of battle pressing!
How I heard you flap and rustle, cloth defiant!)
Debris.
© Walt Whitman
HE is wisest who has the most caution,
He only wins who goes far enough.
Any thing is as good as established, when that is established that will produce it and
continue
it.
Spain 187374.
© Walt Whitman
OUT of the murk of heaviest clouds,
Out of the feudal wrecks, and heapd-up skeletons of kings,
Out of that old entire European debristhe shatterd mummeries,
Ruind cathedrals, crumble of palaces, tombs of priests,
Long, too Long, O Land!
© Walt Whitman
LONG, too long, O land,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful, you learnd from joys and prosperity only;
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguishadvancing, grappling with direst
fate,
Me Imperturbe.
© Walt Whitman
ME imperturbe, standing at ease in Nature,
Master of all, or mistress of allaplomb in the midst of irrational things,
Imbued as theypassive, receptive, silent as they,
Finding my occupation, poverty, notoriety, foibles, crimes, less important than I thought;
France, the 18th year of These States.
© Walt Whitman
1
A GREAT year and place;
A harsh, discordant, natal scream out-sounding, to touch the mothers heart closer
than
Rise, O Days.
© Walt Whitman
1
RISE, O days, from your fathomless deeps, till you loftier, fiercer sweep!
Long for my soul, hungering gymnastic, I devourd what the earth gave me;
Long I roamd the woods of the northlong I watchd Niagara pouring;
To the East and to the West.
© Walt Whitman
TO the East and to the West;
To the man of the Seaside State, and of Pennsylvania,
To the Kanadian of the Northto the Southerner I love;
These, with perfect trust, to depict you as myselfthe germs are in all men;
Mediums.
© Walt Whitman
THEY shall arise in the States,
They shall report Nature, laws, physiology, and happiness;
They shall illustrate Democracy and the kosmos;
They shall be alimentive, amative, perceptive;