Poem Lake | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Beginners How they are provided for upon the earth (appearing at intervals), How dear and dreadful they are to the earth, How they inure to themselves as much as to any, what a paradox appears their age, How people respond to them, yet know them not, How there is something... Poet: Walt Whitman	Still Though the One I Sing Still though the one I sing, (One, yet of contradictions made) I dedicate to Nationality, I leave in him revolt, (O latent right of insurrection! O quenchless, indispensable fire!) Poet: Walt Whitman	From "The Song of Myself" Myself i celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loaf and invite my soul, I lean and loaf at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. My tongue, every atom... Poet: Walt Whitman	Give Me the Splendid Silent Sun Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling, Give me juicy autumnal fruit ripe and red from the orchard, Give me a field where the unmowed grass grows, Give me an arbor, give me the trellised grape, Give me fresh corn and wheat, give me serene... Poet: Walt Whitman
Mannahatta I was asking for something specific and perfect for my city, Whereupon lo! upsprang the aboriginal name. Now I see what there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane, unruly, musical, self-sufficient, I see that the word of my city is that word from of old, Because I... Poet: Walt Whitman	From "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry" Ah, what can ever be more stately and admirable to me than mast-hemmed Manhattan? River and sunset and scallop-edged waves of flood-tide? The sea-gulls oscillating their bodies, the hay-boat in the twilight, and the belated lighter? Flow on, river! flow with the flood-... Poet: Walt Whitman	Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking Out of the cradle endlessly rocking, Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle, Out of the Ninth-month midnight, Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child leaving his bed wandered alone, bareheaded, barefoot, Down from the showered... Poet: Walt Whitman	To the Man-of-War-Bird Thou who hast slept all night upon the storm, Walking renewed on thy prodigious pinions, (Burst the wild storm? above it thou ascendedst, And rested on the sky, thy slave that cradled thee) Now a blue point, far, far in heaven floating, As to the light... Poet: Walt Whitman
The Dalliance of the Eagles Skirting the river road (my forenoon walk, my rest), Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance of the eagles, The rushing amorous contact high in space together, The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel, Four beating wings, two... Poet: Walt Whitman	Cavalry Crossing a Ford A line in long array where they wind betwixt green islands, They take a serpentine course, their arms flash in the sun,—hark to the musical clank, Behold the silvery river, in it the splashing horses loitering stop to drink, Behold the brown-faced men, each group, each... Poet: Walt Whitman