Walt Whitman

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

Walt Whitman Poems

81. Trinckle, Drops 12/31/2002
82. Turn, O Libertad 12/31/2002
83. Unnamed Lands 12/31/2002
84. What General Has A Good Army 12/31/2002
85. The Sobbing Of The Bells 12/31/2002
86. To Thee, Old Cause! 12/31/2002
87. To Foreign Lands 12/31/2002
88. To A Historian 12/31/2002
89. Virginia--The West 12/31/2002
90. This Day, O Soul 12/31/2002
91. To Him That Was Crucified 12/31/2002
92. The Singer In The Prison 12/31/2002
93. Song Of Myself, II 10/9/2015
94. The Torch 12/31/2002
95. What Best I See In Thee 12/31/2002
96. This Compost 12/31/2002
97. The Unexpressed 1/3/2003
98. Thoughts 12/31/2002
99. To Old Age 12/31/2002
100. The Voice Of The Rain 12/11/2014
101. Voices 12/31/2002
102. To The Garden The World 12/31/2002
103. To A Pupil 12/31/2002
104. Warble Of Lilac-Time 12/31/2002
105. This Moment, Yearning And Thoughtful 12/31/2002
106. These, I, Singing In Spring 12/31/2002
107. Weave In, Weave In, My Hardy Life 12/31/2002
108. Thought 12/31/2002
109. Think Of The Soul 12/31/2002
110. To The East And To The West 12/31/2002
111. What Am I, After All? 12/31/2002
112. To A President 12/31/2002
113. To Think Of Time 12/31/2002
114. The Wound Dresser 1/1/2004
115. We Two Boys Together Clinging 12/31/2002
116. To You 12/31/2002
117. To A Locomotive In Winter 12/31/2002
118. To One Shortly To Die 12/31/2002
119. To A Common Prostitute 12/31/2002
120. The Untold Want 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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