Walt Whitman Poems

HOW solemn, as one by one,
As the ranks returning, all worn and sweaty--as the men file by where
I stand;
...

FAR hence, amid an isle of wondrous beauty,
Crouching over a grave, an ancient, sorrowful mother,
Once a queen--now lean and tatter'd, seated on the ground,
...

BY the bivouac's fitful flame,
A procession winding around me, solemn and sweet and slow;--but first
I note,
...

AS I walk these broad, majestic days of peace,
(For the war, the struggle of blood finish'd, wherein, O terrific
Ideal!
...

I THOUGHT I was not alone, walking here by the shore,
But the one I thought was with me, as now I walk by the shore,
As I lean and look through the glimmering light--that one has utterly
disappeared,
...

OR, from that Sea of Time,
Spray, blown by the wind--a double winrow-drift of weeds and shells;
(O little shells, so curious-convolute! so limpid-cold and voiceless!
...

I AM he that aches with amorous love;
Does the earth gravitate? Does not all matter, aching, attract all
matter?
...

Whoever you are, holding me now in hand,
Without one thing, all will be useless,
I give you fair warning, before you attempt me further,
I am not what you supposed, but far different.
...

LOOK down, fair moon, and bathe this scene;
Pour softly down night's nimbus floods, on faces ghastly, swollen,
purple;
...