Walt Whitman

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

Poets To Come - Poem by 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! Arouse--for you must justify me--you must answer.

I myself but write one or two indicative words for the future,
I but advance a moment, only to wheel and hurry back in the darkness.

I am a man who, sauntering along, without fully stopping, turns a
casual look upon you, and then averts his face,
Leaving it to you to prove and define it,
Expecting the main things from you.


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Read poems about / on: future



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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