Walt Whitman
Walt Whitman
Walter "Walt" Whitmanwas 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. Whitman is among the most influential poets in the American canon, often called the father of free verse. His work was very controversial in its time, particularly his poetry collection Leaves of Grass, which was described as obscene for its overt sexuality...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth31 May 1819
CountryUnited States of America
From this hour, freedom! Going where I like, my own master...
This hour I tell things in confidence/ I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you.
Will you seek afar off? You surely come back at last, In things best known to you, finding the best, or as good as the best, In folks nearest to you finding the sweetest, strongest, lovingest; Happiness, knowledge, not in another place, but this place-not for another hour, but this hour.
To drive free, to love free, to court destruction with taunts, to feed the remainder of life with one hour of fullness and freedom - one brief hour of madness and joy.
Every hour of every day is an unspeakably perfect miracle.
From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines.
I may be as bad as the worst, but, thank God, I am as good as the best.
What a devil art thou, Poverty! How many desires -- how many aspirations after goodness and truth -- how many noble thoughts, loving wishes toward our fellows, beautiful imaginings thou hast crushed under thy heel, without remorse or pause!
There is no object so soft but it makes a hub for the wheel'd universe.
If anything is sacred, the human body is sacred
Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won
To have great poets, there must be great audiences too.
To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle. Every cubic inch of space is a miracle.
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with such applause in the lecture room, how soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; Till rising and gliding out, I wandered off by myself, in the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, looked up in perfect silence at the stars.