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Song of the Universal. by Walt Whitman
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COME, said the Muse,
Sing me a song no poet yet has chanted,
Sing me the Universal.
In th..
Singer in the Prison, The. by Walt Whitman
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O sight of shame, and pain, and dole!
O fearful thought—a convict Soul!
RANG the refrain alon..
Song for All Seas, All Ships. by Walt Whitman
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TO-DAY a rude brief recitative,
Of ships sailing the Seas, each with its special flag or ship-s..
Sparkles from The Wheel. by Walt Whitman
1
WHERE the city’s ceaseless crowd moves on, the live-long day,
Withdrawn, I join a group of chil..
Starting from Paumanok. by Walt Whitman
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STARTING from fish-shape Paumanok, where I was born,
Well-begotten, and rais’d by a perfect mot..
Sleepers, The. by Walt Whitman
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I WANDER all night in my vision,
Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and..
Still, though the One I Sing. by Walt Whitman
STILL, though the one I sing,
(One, yet of contradictions made,) I dedicate to Nationality,
I le..
Spontaneous Me. by Walt Whitman
SPONTANEOUS me, Nature,
The loving day, the mounting sun, the friend I am happy with,
The arm of..
Ship Starting, The. by Walt Whitman
LO! the unbounded sea!
On its breast a Ship starting, spreading all her sails—an ample Ship,
carr..
Song of the Open Road. by Walt Whitman
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AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The lon..
Sometimes with One I Love. by Walt Whitman
SOMETIMES with one I love, I fill myself with rage, for fear I effuse unreturn’d love;
But now I t..
So Long. by Walt Whitman
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TO conclude—I announce what comes after me;
I announce mightier offspring, orators, days, and t..
Song at Sunset. by Walt Whitman
SPLENDOR of ended day, floating and filling me!
Hour prophetic—hour resuming the past!
Inflating..
Spring & Fall: To A Young Child by Ted Hughes
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With..
September by Ted Hughes
We sit late, watching the dark slowly unfold:
No clock counts this.
When kisses are repeated and t..
Strumpet Song by Sylvia Plath
With white frost gone
And all green dreams not worth much,
After a lean day’s work
Time comes rou..
Sculptor by Sylvia Plath
For Leonard Baskin
To his house the bodiless
Come to barter endlessly
Vision, wisdom, for bodie..
Sleep In The Mojave Desert by Sylvia Plath
Out here there are no hearthstones,
Hot grains, simply. It is dry, dry.
And the air dangerous. Noo..
Stings by Sylvia Plath
Bare-handed, I hand the combs.
The man in white smiles, bare-handed,
Our cheesecloth gauntlets nea..
Sheep In Fog by Sylvia Plath
The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.
The trai..
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