Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

A Farm-Picture

THROUGH the ample open door of the peaceful country barn,A sun-lit pasture field, with cattle and horses feeding;And haze, and vista, and the far..

© Walt Whitman

1861

ARM’D year! year of the struggle!No dainty rhymes or sentimental love verses for you, terrible year!Not you as some pale poetling, seated at a desk..

© Walt Whitman

A Hand-Mirror

HOLD it up sternly! See this it sends back! (Who is it? Is it you?)Outside fair costume--within ashes and filth,No more a flashing eye--no more a..

© Walt Whitman

A Song

Come, I will make the continent indissoluble;I will make the most splendid race the sun ever yet shone upon;I will make divine magnetic lands,With..

© Walt Whitman

A Child's Amaze

SILENT and amazed, even when a little boy,I remember I heard the preacher every Sunday put God in hisstatements,As contending against some being or..

© Walt Whitman

A Glimpse

A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove,late of a winter night--And I unremark'd..

© Walt Whitman

A Woman Waits For Me

A woman waits for me- she contains all, nothing is lacking,Yet all were lacking, if sex were lacking, or if the moisture of theright man were..

© Walt Whitman

A Noiseless Patient Spider

A noiseless, patient spider,I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,It..

© Walt Whitman

A Child Said, What Is The Grass?

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with fullhands;How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what itis any more than he.I..

© Walt Whitman

A Clear Midnight

THIS is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,Thee fully forth emerging..

© Walt Whitman

O Captain! My Captain!

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;The port is near, the bells I hear, the..

© Walt Whitman

Willie Brew'D A Peck O' Maut

O WILLIE 1 brew'd a peck o' maut,And Rob and Allen cam to see;Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night,Ye wadna found in Christendie.Chorus.—We are..

© Robert Burns

To Alex. Cunningham, Esq., Writer, Edinburgh

MY godlike friend—nay, do not stare,You think the phrase is odd-like;But "God is love," the saints declare,Then surely thou art god-like.And is thy..

© Robert Burns

Epistle To William Simson

I GAT your letter, winsome Willie;Wi' gratefu' heart I thank you brawlie;Tho' I maun say't, I wad be silly,And unco vain,Should I believe, my coaxin..

© Robert Burns

Impromptu On Dumourier's Desertion Of The French Republican Army

YOU'RE welcome to Despots, Dumourier;You're welcome to Despots, Dumourier:How does Dampiere do?Ay, and Bournonville too?Why did they not come along..

© Robert Burns

Epitaph On John Rankine

AE day, as Death, that gruesome carl,Was driving to the tither warl'A mixtie-maxtie motley squad,And mony a guilt-bespotted lad—Black gowns of each..

© Robert Burns

Elegy On Willie Nicol's Mare

PEG NICHOLSON was a good bay mare,As ever trod on airn;But now she's floating down the Nith,And past the mouth o' Cairn.Peg Nicholson was a good bay..

© Robert Burns

Elegy On The Death Of Robert Ruisseaux

NOW Robin 1 lies in his last lair,He'll gabble rhyme, nor sing nae mair;Cauld poverty, wi' hungry stare,Nae mair shall fear him;Nor anxious fear, nor..

© Robert Burns

To Miss Ferrier, Enclosing Elegy On Sir J. H. Blair

NAE heathen name shall I prefix,Frae Pindus or Parnassus;Auld Reekie dings them a' to sticks,For rhyme-inspiring lasses.Jove's tunefu' dochters three..

© Robert Burns

Rhyming Reply To A Note From Captain Riddell

DEAR SIR, at ony time or tide,I'd rather sit wi' you than ride,Though 'twere wi' royal Geordie:And trowth, your kindness, soon and late,Aft gars me..

© Robert Burns

Fragment—altho' He Has Left Me

ALTHO' he has left me for greed o' the siller,I dinna envy him the gains he can win;I rather wad bear a' the lade o' my sorrow,Than ever hae acted..

© Robert Burns

Lines Inscribed In A Lady's Pocket Almanack

GRANT me, indulgent Heaven, that I may live,To see the miscreants feel the pains they give;Deal Freedom's sacred treasures free as air,Till Slave and..

© Robert Burns

Epitaph For Mr. Gabriel Richardson, Brewer

HERE Brewer Gabriel's fire's extinct,And empty all his barrels:He's blest—if, as he brew'd, he drink,In upright, honest morals.

© Robert Burns

Second Epistle To J. Lapraik

WHILE new-ca'd kye rowte at the stakeAn' pownies reek in pleugh or braik,This hour on e'enin's edge I take,To own I'm debtorTo honest-hearted, auld..

© Robert Burns

The Gowden Locks Of Anna

YESTREEN I had a pint o' wine,A place where body saw na;Yestreen lay on this breast o' mineThe gowden locks of Anna.The hungry Jew in..

© Robert Burns