Walt Whitman

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

Walt Whitman Poems

121. The Prairie-Grass Dividing 12/31/2002
122. This Dust Was Once The Man 12/31/2002
123. Lo! Victress On The Peaks 12/31/2002
124. A Song Of Joys 12/19/2014
125. The Ox Tamer 12/31/2002
126. Walt Whitman's Caution 12/31/2002
127. Spain 1873-'74 12/31/2002
128. Solid, Ironical, Rolling Orb 12/31/2002
129. Spirit That Form'D Theis Scene 12/31/2002
130. The Centerarian's Story 12/31/2002
131. Sing Of The Banner At Day-Break 12/31/2002
132. States! 12/31/2002
133. The Indications 12/31/2002
134. The Base Of All Metaphysics 12/31/2002
135. Scented Herbage Of My Breast 12/31/2002
136. Inscription 12/31/2002
137. Not Heaving From My Ribb'D Breast Only 12/31/2002
138. The Sleepers 12/31/2002
139. Savantism 12/31/2002
140. Other May Praise What They Like 12/31/2002
141. No Labor-Saving Machine 12/31/2002
142. Recorders Ages Hence 12/31/2002
143. Over The Carnage 12/31/2002
144. With Antecedents 12/31/2002
145. Long, Too Long, O Land! 12/31/2002
146. One Sweeps By 12/31/2002
147. France, The 18th Year Of These States 12/31/2002
148. Locations And Times 12/31/2002
149. Pensive On Her Dead Gazing, I Heard The Mother Of All 12/31/2002
150. Says 12/31/2002
151. Race Of Veterans 12/31/2002
152. Not Youth Pertains To Me 12/31/2002
153. Still, Though The One I Sing 12/31/2002
154. What Weeping Face 12/31/2002
155. I Heard You, Solemn-Sweep Pipes Of The Organ 12/31/2002
156. Shut Not Your Doors, &C. 12/31/2002
157. From Paumanok Starting 12/31/2002
158. The Ship Starting 12/31/2002
159. When I Peruse The Conquer'D Fame 12/31/2002
160. O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig! 12/31/2002

Comments about Walt Whitman

  • Lonely Eye (3/3/2006 2:49:00 PM)

    the more knowing we have of whatever it may be perpetuates the unknown to which we must look to discover
    as when it is life that has been lived to its utmost we shall graciously enter into death for not the end but the beginning of what is unknown

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  • Alicia Hodkin (12/8/2005 11:02:00 AM)

    At the beginning of the poem, Whitman is filled with anguish and depression. He's so depressed and deperate that it's causing pain. He's pouring out all the emotion that's built up inside of him. Since he's been in anguish he takes a good look at himself and doesn't even recognize who he's become. During the day he acts as though it's a mundane way of life, but in the night, when no one's looking, his emotion is desperately pouring out like the ocean.

  • Amanda Patrick (12/8/2005 11:01:00 AM)

    In the poem, 'Tears, ' Whitman is very depressed. He talks about crying on the shore of the beach and just letting himself go. He doesn't know who he is anymore. He talks about how he is calm during the day and doesn't show his inner feelings, and how at night he becomes very depressed again without any one knowing.

  • Amanda Patrick (12/8/2005 10:44:00 AM)

    When I read the poem, 'Sparkles From The Wheel', I thought whitman was saying how something so little can turn out to be so beautiful. For example, in the line when he says, 'The scene, and all its belongings-how they seize and affect me! '

  • Alicia Hodkin (12/8/2005 10:39:00 AM)

    In the poem, 'Sparkels From The Wheel, ' Walt Whitman is stepping away from the crowded, busy part of life and looking beyond what the world would see. To him, he sees a man who's working hard and giving all he has into his job. For example, he 'carefully holds it' and has percision. What the world would see as a man of poverty, Whitman sees as a skill that brings awe.

  • Amanda Patrick (12/8/2005 10:26:00 AM)

    In the poem 'Solid, Ironical, Rolling Orb' the last line says 'And of me, as lover and hero.' I thought this line meant that whitman was now a lover of the earth, and that he was a hero to himself because he passed earth's tests.

  • Kristina Carter (12/2/2005 11:17:00 AM)

    In the poem, 'Laws of Creation, ' Whitman talks about questions people have asked while trying to make their own creation. He is trying to show that there are no rules to creation, and there are no boundaries as long as it was created.

  • Alicia Hodkin (12/2/2005 11:13:00 AM)

    In the poem 'Solid, Ironical, Rolling Orb' Whitman is talking about how the earth in it's huge solid form, is challenging his 'ideal dreams.' He finally decides that he has to accept what is given to him.
    What do you think about the statement 'And of me, as lover and hero? ' (amanda and shelly r.)

  • Kristina Carter (12/2/2005 11:10:00 AM)

    I like the poem, 'Lessons.' It talks about how people usually only teach others about the good things, but it is just as important to teach someone about bad things. It may hurt the person you are teaching the bad things to, but if you love them, like Whitman says, then you'll do it for their good.

  • Kristina Carter (12/2/2005 11:03:00 AM)

    In the poem, 'Miracles, ' I really like the point that Whitman is trying to make. Everything in life really is a miracle. Just watching the grass blow in the wind is a miracle. Whitman is showing that everything in life is important, even the small things that no one really thinks about.

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

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