Walt Whitman

Walter "Walt" Whitman was an American poet, essayist and journalist. A humanist, he was a part of the transition between transcendentalism and realism, incorporating both views in his works. Wikipedia

I am the Teacher of Athletes

I am the teacher of athletes; He that by me spreads a wider breast than my own, proves the width of my own; He most honors my style who learns under it to destroy the teacher.The boy I love, the same becomes a man, not through derived...

By Walt Whitman
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23 February

The Wound-Dresser

3On, on I go, (open doors of time! open hospital doors!) The crush’d head I dress (poor crazed hand tear not the bandage away), The neck of the cavalry-man with the bullet through and through I examine, Hard the breathing rattles, quite glazed already the eye, yet life...

By Walt Whitman
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13 September

I Hear America Singing

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong, The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam, The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work, The...

By Walt Whitman
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04 July

Drum-Taps (A Selection)

Aroused and angry, I thought to beat the alarum, and urge relentless war; But soon my fingers fail’d me, my face droop’d, and I resign’d myself, To sit by the wounded and soothe them, or silently watch the dead....

By Walt Whitman
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07 March

Grand is the Seen

Grand is the seen, the light, to me—grand are the sky and stars, Grand is the earth, and grand are lasting time and space, And grand their laws, so multiform, puzzling, evolutionary; But grander far the unseen soul of me, comprehending, endowing all those, Lighting the light, the sky and...

By Walt Whitman
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02 March

Beat! Beat! Drums!

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Beat! beat! drums!—Blow! bugles! blow! Through the windows—through doors—burst like a ruthless force, Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation; Into the school where the scholar is studying; Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness must he have now with his bride; Nor the peaceful farmer any peace,...

By Walt Whitman
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24 February

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

Come, my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready; Have you your pistols? have you your sharp edged axes?  Pioneers! O pioneers!For we cannot tarry here, We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, We, the youthful...

By Walt Whitman
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04 February

“O Christ! My fit is mastering me!”

O Christ! My fit is mastering me! What the rebel said gaily adjusting his throat to the rope-noose, What the savage at the stump, his eye-sockets empty, his mouth spirting whoops and defiance, What stills the traveler come to the vault at Mount Vernon, What sobers the Brooklyn boy...

By Walt Whitman
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16 January