Time Poems - Poems For Time - To Think Of Time - Poem by Walt Whitman | Poem Hunter

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To Think Of Time - Poem by Walt Whitman

To think of time--of all that retrospection!
To think of to-day, and the ages continued henceforward!

Have you guess'd you yourself would not continue?
Have you dreaded these earth-beetles?
Have you fear'd the future would be nothing to you?

Is to-day nothing? Is the beginningless past nothing?
If the future is nothing, they are just as surely nothing.

To think that the sun rose in the east! that men and women were
flexible, real, alive! that everything was alive!
To think that you and I did not see, feel, think, nor bear our part!
To think that we are now here, and bear our part! 10

Not a day passes--not a minute or second, without an accouchement!
Not a day passes--not a minute or second, without a corpse!

The dull nights go over, and the dull days also,
The soreness of lying so much in bed goes over,
The physician, after long putting off, gives the silent and terrible
look for an answer,
The children come hurried and weeping, and the brothers and sisters
are sent for,
Medicines stand unused on the shelf--(the camphor-smell has long
pervaded the rooms,)
The faithful hand of the living does not desert the hand of the
The twitching lips press lightly on the forehead of the dying,
The breath ceases, and the pulse of the heart ceases, 20
The corpse stretches on the bed, and the living look upon it,
It is palpable as the living are palpable.

The living look upon the corpse with their eye-sight,
But without eye-sight lingers a different living, and looks curiously
on the corpse.

To think the thought of Death, merged in the thought of materials!
To think that the rivers will flow, and the snow fall, and fruits
ripen, and act upon others as upon us now--yet not act upon us!
To think of all these wonders of city and country, and others taking
great interest in them--and we taking no interest in them!

To think how eager we are in building our houses!
To think others shall be just as eager, and we quite indifferent!

(I see one building the house that serves him a few years, or seventy
or eighty years at most, 30
I see one building the house that serves him longer than that.)

Slow-moving and black lines creep over the whole earth--they never
cease--they are the burial lines,
He that was President was buried, and he that is now President shall
surely be buried.

A reminiscence of the vulgar fate,
A frequent sample of the life and death of workmen,
Each after his kind:
Cold dash of waves at the ferry-wharf--posh and ice in the river,
half-frozen mud in the streets, a gray, discouraged sky
overhead, the short, last daylight of Twelfth-month,
A hearse and stages--other vehicles give place--the funeral of an old
Broadway stage-driver, the cortege mostly drivers.

Steady the trot to the cemetery, duly rattles the death-bell, the
gate is pass'd, the new-dug grave is halted at, the living
alight, the hearse uncloses,
The coffin is pass'd out, lower'd and settled, the whip is laid on
the coffin, the earth is swiftly shovel'd in, 40
The mound above is flatted with the spades--silence,
A minute--no one moves or speaks--it is done,
He is decently put away--is there anything more?

He was a good fellow, free-mouth'd, quick-temper'd, not bad-looking,
able to take his own part, witty, sensitive to a slight, ready
with life or death for a friend, fond of women, gambled, ate
hearty, drank hearty, had known what it was to be flush, grew
low-spirited toward the last, sicken'd, was help'd by a
contribution, died, aged forty-one years--and that was his

Thumb extended, finger uplifted, apron, cape, gloves, strap, wet-
weather clothes, whip carefully chosen, boss, spotter, starter,
hostler, somebody loafing on you, you loafing on somebody,
headway, man before and man behind, good day's work, bad day's
work, pet stock, mean stock, first out, last out, turning-in at
To think that these are so much and so nigh to other drivers--and he
there takes no interest in them!

The markets, the government, the working-man's wages--to think what
account they are through our nights and days!
To think that other working-men will make just as great account of
them--yet we make little or no account!

The vulgar and the refined--what you call sin, and what you call
goodness--to think how wide a difference!
To think the difference will still continue to others, yet we lie
beyond the difference. 50

To think how much pleasure there is!
Have you pleasure from looking at the sky? have you pleasure from
Do you enjoy yourself in the city? or engaged in business? or
planning a nomination and election? or with your wife and
Or with your mother and sisters? or in womanly housework? or the
beautiful maternal cares?
--These also flow onward to others--you and I flow onward,
But in due time, you and I shall take less interest in them.

Your farm, profits, crops,--to think how engross'd you are!
To think there will still be farms, profits, crops--yet for you, of
what avail?

What will be, will be well--for what is, is well,
To take interest is well, and not to take interest shall be well. 60

The sky continues beautiful,
The pleasure of men with women shall never be sated, nor the pleasure
of women with men, nor the pleasure from poems,
The domestic joys, the daily housework or business, the building of
houses--these are not phantasms--they have weight, form,
Farms, profits, crops, markets, wages, government, are none of them
The difference between sin and goodness is no delusion,
The earth is not an echo--man and his life, and all the things of his
life, are well-consider'd.

You are not thrown to the winds--you gather certainly and safely
around yourself;
Yourself! Yourself! Yourself, forever and ever!

It is not to diffuse you that you were born of your mother and
father--it is to identify you;
It is not that you should be undecided, but that you should be
decided; 70
Something long preparing and formless is arrived and form'd in you,
You are henceforth secure, whatever comes or goes.

The threads that were spun are gather'd, 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
He is one of those who are beautiful and happy--he is one of those
that to look upon and be with is enough.

The law of the past cannot be eluded,
The law of the present and future cannot be eluded,
The law of the living cannot be eluded--it is eternal, 80
The law of promotion and transformation cannot be eluded,
The law of heroes and good-doers cannot be eluded,
The law of drunkards, informers, mean persons--not one iota thereof
can be eluded.

Slow moving and black lines go ceaselessly over the earth,
Northerner goes carried, and Southerner goes carried, and they on the
Atlantic side, and they on the Pacific, and they between, and
all through the Mississippi country, and all over the earth.

The great masters and kosmos are well as they go--the heroes and
good-doers are well,
The known leaders and inventors, and the rich owners and pious and
distinguish'd, may be well,
But there is more account than that--there is strict account of all.

The interminable hordes of the ignorant and wicked are not nothing,
The barbarians of Africa and Asia are not nothing, 90
The common people of Europe are not nothing--the American aborigines
are not nothing,
The infected in the immigrant hospital are not nothing--the murderer
or mean person is not nothing,
The perpetual successions of shallow people are not nothing as they
The lowest prostitute is not nothing--the mocker of religion is not
nothing as he goes.

Of and in all these things,
I have dream'd that we are not to be changed so much, nor the law of
us changed,
I have dream'd that heroes and good-doers shall be under the present
and past law,
And that murderers, drunkards, liars, shall be under the present and
past law,
For I have dream'd that the law they are under now is enough.

If otherwise, all came but to ashes of dung, 100
If maggots and rats ended us, then Alarum! for we are betray'd!
Then indeed suspicion of death.

Do you suspect death? If I were to suspect death, I should die now,
Do you think I could walk pleasantly and well-suited toward

Pleasantly and well-suited I walk,
Whither I walk I cannot define, but I know it is good,
The whole universe indicates that it is good,
The past and the present indicate that it is good.

How beautiful and perfect are the animals!
How perfect the earth, and the minutest thing upon it! 110

What is called good is perfect, and what is called bad is just as
The vegetables and minerals are all perfect, and the imponderable
fluids are perfect;
Slowly and surely they have pass'd on to this, and slowly and surely
they yet pass on.

I swear I think now that everything without exception has an eternal Soul!
The trees have, rooted in the ground! the weeds of the sea have! the

I swear I think there is nothing but immortality!
That the exquisite scheme is for it, and the nebulous float is for
it, and the cohering is for it;
And all preparation is for it! and identity is for it! and life and
materials are altogether for it!

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Poems About Time

  1. 1. Passing Time , Maya Angelou
  2. 2. A Time To Talk , Robert Frost
  3. 3. The Time I Like Best , Roger McGough
  4. 4. Two Tramps In Mud Time , Robert Frost
  5. 5. A Prayer In Time Of War , Alfred Noyes
  6. 6. Time Is , Henry Van Dyke
  7. 7. In A Dark Time , Theodore Roethke
  8. 8. A Song Of Eternity In Time , Sidney Lanier
  9. 9. To The Virgins, Make Much Of Time , Robert Herrick
  10. 10. Sonnet Vii: How Soon Hath Time, The Subt.. , John Milton
  11. 11. Less Time , Andre Breton
  12. 12. Was There A Time , Dylan Thomas
  13. 13. Always For The First Time , Andre Breton
  14. 14. Cherry-Time , Robert Graves
  15. 15. Count-Time , Jimmy Santiago Baca
  16. 16. The Plough Of Time , Lawrence Ferlinghetti
  17. 17. In Time Of 'The Breaking Of Nations' , Thomas Hardy
  18. 18. Milton: And Did Those Feet In Ancient Time , William Blake
  19. 19. Time And Time And Time Again , David Keig
  20. 20. The Faun Sees Snow For The First Time , Richard Aldington
  21. 21. Time Long Past , Percy Bysshe Shelley
  22. 22. On Time , John Milton
  23. 23. Time , Percy Bysshe Shelley
  24. 24. The Course Of Life, Time, And Events And.. , Merlin Archivilla
  25. 25. T Was Just This Time Last Year I Died. , Emily Dickinson
  26. 26. A Meditation In Time Of War , William Butler Yeats
  27. 27. As The Time Draws Nigh , Walt Whitman
  28. 28. Or From That Sea Of Time , Walt Whitman
  29. 29. A Great Time , William Henry Davies
  30. 30. On Seeing The Elgin Marbles For The Firs.. , John Keats
  31. 31. Sonnet 49: Against That Time, If Ever Th.. , William Shakespeare
  32. 32. Time Cures All , Hilaire Belloc
  33. 33. Winter-Time , Robert Louis Stevenson
  34. 34. Meditations In Time Of Civil War , William Butler Yeats
  35. 35. Never The Time And The Place , Robert Browning
  36. 36. Time To Rise , Robert Louis Stevenson
  37. 37. The Coming Of Wisdom With Time , William Butler Yeats
  38. 38. Spring In War Time , Sara Teasdale
  39. 39. Sonnet Xxxviii: First Time He Kissed Me , Elizabeth Barrett Browning
  40. 40. Time, Real And Imaginary , Samuel Taylor Coleridge
  41. 41. Who Bides His Time , James Whitcomb Riley
  42. 42. Sonnet Xxxii: The First Time , Elizabeth Barrett Browning
  43. 43. Dusk In War Time , Sara Teasdale
  44. 44. To Lucasta On Going To The War - For The.. , Robert Graves
  45. 45. Upon Time And Eternity , John Bunyan
  46. 46. The Time When I First Fell In Love , Anonymous
  47. 47. To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time , William Butler Yeats
  48. 48. Time Of Roses , Thomas Hood
  49. 49. Long Time I Lay In Little Ease , Robert Louis Stevenson
  50. 50. Time Knows Time , Tirupathi Chandrupatla

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