All Poems
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A Boston Ballad, 1854.
© Walt Whitman
TO get betimes in Boston town, I rose this morning early;
Heres a good place at the cornerI must stand and see the show.
Clear the way there, Jonathan!
Song of the Universal.
© Walt Whitman
1
COME, said the Muse,
Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted,
Sing me the Universal.
As I lay with Head in your Lap, Camerado.
© Walt Whitman
AS I lay with my head in your lap, Camerado,
The confession I made I resumewhat I said to you in the open air I resume:
I know I am restless, and make others so;
I know my words are weapons, full of danger, full of death;
Out from Behind this Mask.
© Walt Whitman
1
OUT from behind this bending, rough-cut Mask,
(All straighter, liker Masks rejectedthis preferrd,)
This common curtain of the face, containd in me for me, in you for you, in each for
Torch, The.
© Walt Whitman
ON my northwest coast in the midst of the night, a fishermens group stands watching;
Out on the lake, that expands before them, others are spearing salmon;
The canoe, a dim shadowy thing, moves across the black water,
Bearing a Torch a-blaze at the prow.
Once I Pass'd Through a Populous City.
© Walt Whitman
ONCE I pass'd through a populous city, imprinting my brain, for future use, with its
shows, architecture, customs, and traditions;
Yet now, of all that city, I remember only a woman I casually met there, who detain'd me
for love of me;
I was Looking a Long While.
© Walt Whitman
I WAS looking a long while for a clue to the history of the past for myself, and for these
chantsand now I have found it;
It is not in those paged fables in the libraries, (them I neither accept nor reject;)
It is no more in the legends than in all else;
World, Take Good Notice.
© Walt Whitman
WORLD, take good notice, silver stars fading,
Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching,
Coals thirty-eight, baleful and burning,
Scarlet, significant, hands off warning,
Now and henceforth flaunt from these shores. 5
Last Invocation, The.
© Walt Whitman
1
AT the last, tenderly,
From the walls of the powerful, fortressd house,
From the clasp of the knitted locksfrom the keep of the well-closed doors,
Longings for Home.
© Walt Whitman
O MAGNET-SOUTH! O glistening, perfumed South! My South!
O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse, and love! Good and evil! O all dear to me!
O dear to me my birth-thingsAll moving things, and the trees where I was
bornthe
Poets to Come.
© Walt Whitman
POETS to come! orators, singers, musicians to come!
Not to-day is to justify me, and answer what I am for;
But you, a new brood, native, athletic, continental, greater than before known,
Arouse! Arousefor you must justify meyou must answer.
To Oratists.
© Walt Whitman
TO oratiststo male or female,
Vocalism, measure, concentration, determination, and the divine power to use words.
Are you full-lungd and limber-lippd from long trial? from vigorous practice?
from
Look Down, Fair Moon.
© Walt Whitman
LOOK down, fair moon, and bathe this scene;
Pour softly down nights nimbus floods, on faces ghastly, swollen, purple;
On the dead, on their backs, with their arms tossd wide,
Pour down your unstinted nimbus, sacred moon.
Runner, The.
© Walt Whitman
ON a flat road runs the well-traind runner;
He is lean and sinewy, with muscular legs;
He is thinly clothedhe leans forward as he runs,
With lightly closed fists, and arms partially raisd.
Singer in the Prison, The.
© Walt Whitman
1
O sight of shame, and pain, and dole!
O fearful thoughta convict Soul!
RANG the refrain along the hall, the prison,
Behavior.
© Walt Whitman
BEHAVIORfresh, native, copious, each one for himself or herself,
Nature and the Soul expressedAmerica and freedom expressedIn it the finest
art,
In it pride, cleanliness, sympathy, to have their chance,
Now Finale to the Shore.
© Walt Whitman
NOW finale to the shore!
Now, land and life, finale, and farewell!
Now Voyager depart! (much, much for thee is yet in store;)
Often enough hast thou adventurd oer the seas,
Song for All Seas, All Ships.
© Walt Whitman
1
TO-DAY a rude brief recitative,
Of ships sailing the Seas, each with its special flag or ship-signal;
Of unnamed heroes in the shipsOf waves spreading and spreading, far as the eye can reach;
Roots and Leaves Themselves Alone.
© Walt Whitman
ROOTS and leaves themselves alone are these;
Scents brought to men and women from the wild woods, and from the pond-side,
Breast-sorrel and pinks of lovefingers that wind around tighter than vines,
Gushes from the throats of birds, hid in the foliage of trees, as the sun is risen;
Cavalry Crossing a Ford.
© Walt Whitman
A LINE in long array, where they wind betwixt green islands;
They take a serpentine coursetheir arms flash in the sunHark to the musical
clank;
Behold the silvery riverin it the splashing horses, loitering, stop to drink;
