Home > Work > Poems by Walt Whitman
1 " All beauty comes from beautiful blood and a beautiful brain. "
― Walt Whitman , Poems by Walt Whitman
2 " The cleanest expression is that which finds no sphere worthy of itself, and makes one. "
3 " This is what you shall do: love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labour to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence towards the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, "
4 " Human bodies are words, myriads of words; In the best poems reappears the body, man's or woman's, well-shaped, natural, gay; "
5 " CENTURIES HENCE. Full of life now, compact, visible,I, forty years old the eighty-third year of the States,To one a century hence, or any number of centuries hence,To you, yet unborn, these seeking you. When you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible;Now it is you, compact, visible, realising my poems, seeking me;Fancying how happy you were, if I could be with you, and become your loving comrade;Be it as if I were with you. Be not too certain but I am now with you. "
6 " Something long preparing and formless is arrived and formed in you,You are henceforth secure, whatever comes or goes. The threads that were spun are gathered, the weft crosses the warp, the pattern is systematic. The preparations have every one been justified, The orchestra have sufficiently tuned their instruments—the baton has given the signal. The guest that was coming—he waited long, for reasons—he is now housed; He is one of those who are beautiful and happy—he is one of those that to look upon and be with is enough. "
7 " I CANNOT tell you now; When the wind's drive and whirl Blow me along no longer, And the wind's a whisper at last--Maybe I'll tell you then-- some other time. When the rose's flash to the sunset Reels to the rack and the twist, And the rose is a red bygone, When the face I love is going And the gate to the end shall clang, And it's no use to beckon or say, "So long"--Maybe I'll tell you then-- some other time.I never knew any more beautiful than you: I have hunted you under my thoughts, I have broken down under the wind And into the roses looking for you. I shall never find any greater than you. "