Walt Whitman

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

Walt Whitman Poems

361. In Midnight Sleep 12/31/2002
362. Adieu To A Soldier 12/31/2002
363. When I Heard The Learned Astronomer 1/20/2003
364. After The Sea-Ship 12/31/2002
365. When Lilacs Last In The Dooryard Bloom'D 1/3/2003
366. Are You The New Person, Drawn Toward Me? 12/31/2002
367. O You Whom I Often And Silently Come 12/31/2002
368. A Boston Ballad, 1854 12/31/2002
369. Beat! Beat! Drums! 12/31/2002
370. A Promise To California 12/31/2002
371. Leaves Of Grass. A Carol Of Harvest For 1867 12/31/2002
372. A Riddle Song 12/31/2002
373. A March In The Ranks, Hard-Prest 12/31/2002
374. Miracles 12/31/2002
375. A Sight In Camp 12/31/2002
376. Song Of Myself, I 1/20/2003
377. O Me! O Life! 12/31/2002
378. Beautiful Women 12/31/2002
379. A Hand-Mirror 12/31/2002
380. To A Stranger 12/31/2002
381. All Is Truth 12/31/2002
382. I Hear America Singing 12/31/2002
383. A Farm-Picture 12/31/2002
384. 1861 12/31/2002
385. A Woman Waits For Me 12/31/2002
386. A Glimpse 12/31/2002
387. A Song 12/31/2002
388. A Child's Amaze 12/31/2002
389. A Noiseless Patient Spider 12/31/2002
390. A Child Said, What Is The Grass? 1/20/2003
391. A Clear Midnight 12/31/2002
392. O Captain! My Captain! 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

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