When I heard the learn’d astronomer; When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me; When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them; When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;… Continue reading Walt Whitman
You sea! I resign myself to you also … . I guess what you mean, I behold from the beach your crooked inviting fingers, I believe you refuse to go back without feeling of me; We must have a turn together … . I undress … . hurry me out of sight of the… Continue reading Walt Whitman
Of tears, the aftermark Of almost too much love, The sweet of bitter bark And burning clove. — Robert Frost, from “To Earthward,” The Poetry of Robert Frost: The Collected Poems, Complete and Unabridged (Henry Holt, 1979)
The past, the future, dwelling there, like space, inseparable together. — Walt Whitman, from “Kosmos,” Leaves of Grass. Originally published: July 4, 1855.
Hyla Brook By June our brook’s run out of song and speed. Sought for much after that, it will be found Either to have gone groping underground (And taken with it all the Hyla breed That shouted in the mist a month ago, Like ghost of sleigh bells in a ghost of snow)— Or flourished… Continue reading Robert Frost
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring, Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish, Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d, Of… Continue reading Walt Whitman
Why make so much of fragmentary blue In here and there a bird, or butterfly, Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue? Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)— Though some savants make earth include the sky; And blue so far above us comes so… Continue reading Robert Frost