I Sit and Look Out
I SIT and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all oppression and shame; I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with themselves, remorseful after deeds done;
Savantism
THITHER, as I look, I see each result and glory retracing itself and nestling close, always obligated; Thither hours, months, years-thither trades, compacts, establishments, even the most minute; Thither every-day life, speech, utensils, politics,
Adieu to a Soldier
ADIEU, O soldier! You of the rude campaigning, (which we shared,) The rapid march, the life of the camp, The hot contention of opposing fronts-the long manoeuver, Red battles with their slaughter,-the stimulus-the strong,
Primeval my Love for the Woman I Love
PRIMEVAL my love for the woman I love, O bride! O wife! more resistless, more enduring than I can tell, the thought of you! Then separate, as disembodied, the purest born, The ethereal, the
Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me
NOT my enemies ever invade me-no harm to my pride from them I fear; But the lovers I recklessly love-lo! how they master me! Lo! me, ever open and helpless, bereft of my strength!
Me Imperturbe
ME imperturbe, standing at ease in Nature, Master of all, or mistress of all-aplomb in the midst of irrational things, Imbued as they-passive, receptive, silent as they, Finding my occupation, poverty, notoriety, foibles, crimes,
How Solemn as One by One
HOW solemn, as one by one, As the ranks returning, all worn and sweaty-as the men file by where I stand; As the faces, the masks appear-as I glance at the faces, studying the
To a Pupil
IS reform needed? Is it through you? The greater the reform needed, the greater the personality you need to accomplish it. You! do you not see how it would serve to have eyes, blood,
What am I, After All?
WHAT am I, after all, but a child, pleas’d with the sound of my own name? repeating it over and over; I stand apart to hear-it never tires me. To you, your name also;
From Paumanok Starting
FROM Paumanock starting, I fly like a bird, Around and around to soar, to sing the idea of all; To the north betaking myself, to sing there arctic songs, To Kanada, till I absorb
Old Ireland
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, Her old white hair drooping dishevel’d round her
Sparkles from The Wheel
1 WHERE the city’s ceaseless crowd moves on, the live-long day, Withdrawn, I join a group of children watching-I pause aside with them. By the curb, toward the edge of the flagging, A knife-grinder
Thoughts
OF Public Opinion; Of a calm and cool fiat, sooner or later, (How impassive! How certain and final!) Of the President with pale face, asking secretly to himself, What will the people say at
A March in the Ranks, Hard-prest
A MARCH in the ranks hard-prest, and the road unknown; A route through a heavy wood, with muffled steps in the darkness; Our army foil’d with loss severe, and the sullen remnant retreating; Till
Miracles
WHY! who makes much of a miracle? As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward