Walt Whitman

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

Walt Whitman Poems

241. That Music Always Round Me 12/31/2002
242. That Shadow, My Likeness 12/31/2002
243. The Artilleryman's Vision 12/31/2002
244. The Base Of All Metaphysics 12/31/2002
245. The Centerarian's Story 12/31/2002
246. The City Dead-House 12/31/2002
247. The Dalliance Of The Eagles 12/31/2002
248. The Dresser 12/31/2002
249. The Great City 8/13/2015
250. The Imprisoned Soul 1/4/2003
251. The Indications 12/31/2002
252. The Last Invocation 1/3/2003
253. The Mystic Trumpeter 12/31/2002
254. The Ox Tamer 12/31/2002
255. The Prairie States 12/31/2002
256. The Prairie-Grass Dividing 12/31/2002
257. The Return Of The Heroes 12/4/2014
258. The Runner 12/31/2002
259. The Ship Starting 12/31/2002
260. The Singer In The Prison 12/31/2002
261. The Sleepers 12/31/2002
262. The Sobbing Of The Bells 12/31/2002
263. The Torch 12/31/2002
264. The Unexpressed 1/3/2003
265. The Untold Want 12/31/2002
266. The Voice Of The Rain 12/11/2014
267. The World Below The Brine 12/31/2002
268. The Wound Dresser 1/1/2004
269. There Was A Child Went Forth 12/31/2002
270. These Carols 12/31/2002
271. These, I, Singing In Spring 12/31/2002
272. Thick-Sprinkled Bunting 12/31/2002
273. Think Of The Soul 12/31/2002
274. This Compost 12/31/2002
275. This Day, O Soul 12/31/2002
276. This Dust Was Once The Man 12/31/2002
277. This Moment, Yearning And Thoughtful 12/31/2002
278. Thou Orb Aloft Full-Dazzling 12/31/2002
279. Thou Reader 12/31/2002
280. Thought 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!

To A Historian


YOU who celebrate bygones!
Who have explored the outward, the surfaces of the races--the life
that has exhibited itself;
Who have treated of man as the creature of politics, aggregates,
rulers and priests;
I, habitan of the Alleghanies, treating of him as he is in himself,
in his own rights,
Pressing the pulse of the life that has seldom exhibited itself, (the

[Hata Bildir]