Walt Whitman

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

Walt Whitman Poems

201. Roaming In Thought 12/31/2002
202. Roots And Leaves Themselves Alone 12/31/2002
203. Salut Au Monde 12/31/2002
204. Savantism 12/31/2002
205. Says 12/31/2002
206. Scented Herbage Of My Breast 12/31/2002
207. Sea-Shore Memories 12/31/2002
208. Shut Not Your Doors, &C. 12/31/2002
209. Sing Of The Banner At Day-Break 12/31/2002
210. So Far And So Far, And On Toward The End 12/31/2002
211. So Long 12/31/2002
212. Solid, Ironical, Rolling Orb 12/31/2002
213. Sometimes With One I Love 12/31/2002
214. Song At Sunset 12/31/2002
215. Song For All Seas, All Ships 12/31/2002
216. Song Of Myself, I 1/20/2003
217. Song Of Myself, Iii 2/18/2015
218. Song Of Myself, Lii 11/28/2014
219. Song Of Myself, X 1/20/2003
220. Song Of Myself, Xi 1/20/2003
221. Song Of The Broad-Axe 12/31/2002
222. Song Of The Exposition 12/31/2002
223. Song Of The Open Road 12/31/2002
224. Song Of The Redwood-Tree 12/31/2002
225. Song Of The Universal 12/31/2002
226. Souvenirs Of Democracy 12/31/2002
227. Spain 1873-'74 12/31/2002
228. Sparkles From The Wheel 12/31/2002
229. Spirit That Form'D Theis Scene 12/31/2002
230. Spirit Whose Work Is Done 12/31/2002
231. Spontaneous Me 12/31/2002
232. Starting From Paumanok 12/31/2002
233. States! 12/31/2002
234. Still, Though The One I Sing 12/31/2002
235. Tears 12/31/2002
236. Tests 12/31/2002
237. That Last Invocation 12/31/2002
238. That Music Always Round Me 12/31/2002
239. That Shadow, My Likeness 12/31/2002
240. The Artilleryman's Vision 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!

A Paumanok Picture

TWO boats with nets lying off the sea-beach, quite still,
Ten fishermen waiting--they discover a thick school of mossbonkers--
they drop the join'd seine-ends in the water,
The boats separate and row off, each on its rounding course to the
beach, enclosing the mossbonkers,
The net is drawn in by a windlass by those who stop ashore,
Some of the fishermen lounge in their boats, others stand ankle-deep
in the water, pois'd on strong legs,
The boats

[Hata Bildir]