Walt Whitman

(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892 / New York / United States)

Walt Whitman Poems

361. Virgil Strange I Kept On The Field 12/31/2002
362. Virginia--The West 12/31/2002
363. Visor'D 12/31/2002
364. Voices 12/31/2002
365. Walt Whitman's Caution 12/31/2002
366. Wandering At Morn 12/31/2002
367. Warble Of Lilac-Time 12/31/2002
368. Washington's Monument, February, 1885 6/5/2015
369. We Two Boys Together Clinging 12/31/2002
370. We Two-How Long We Were Fool'D 12/31/2002
371. Weave In, Weave In, My Hardy Life 12/31/2002
372. What Am I, After All? 12/31/2002
373. What Best I See In Thee 12/31/2002
374. What General Has A Good Army 12/31/2002
375. What Place Is Besieged? 12/31/2002
376. What Think You I Take My Pen In Hand? 12/31/2002
377. What Weeping Face 12/31/2002
378. When I Heard At The Close Of The Day 12/31/2002
379. When I Heard The Learned Astronomer 1/20/2003
380. When I Peruse The Conquer'D Fame 12/31/2002
381. When I Read The Book 12/31/2002
382. When Lilacs Last In The Dooryard Bloom'D 1/3/2003
383. Whispers Of Heavenly Death 12/31/2002
384. Who Is Now Reading This? 12/31/2002
385. Who Learns My Lesson Complete? 12/31/2002
386. Whoever You Are, Holding Me Now In Hand 12/31/2002
387. With All Thy Gifts 12/31/2002
388. With Antecedents 12/31/2002
389. World, Take Good Notice 12/31/2002
390. Year Of Meteors, 1859 '60 12/31/2002
391. Year That Trembled 12/31/2002
392. Years Of The Modern 12/31/2002
393. Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours 12/31/2002
Best Poem of Walt Whitman

O Captain! My Captain!

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills; 10
For you bouquets and ...

Read the full of O Captain! My Captain!

Camps Of Green

NOT alone those camps of white, O soldiers,
When, as order'd forward, after a long march,
Footsore and weary, soon as the light lessen'd, we halted for the
Some of us so fatigued, carrying the gun and knapsack, dropping
asleep in our tracks;
Others pitching the little tents, and the fires lit up began to

[Hata Bildir]