Not the pilot has charged himself to bring his ship into port, though beaten back, and many times baffled;Not the path-finder, penetrating inland, weary and long,By deserts parch’d, snows-chill’d, rivers wet, perseveres till he reaches his destination,More than I have charged myself, heeded or unheeded, to compose a free march for These States,To be exhilarating…
Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me By Walt Whitman
Not my enemies ever invade me – no harm to my pride from them I fear;But the lovers I recklessly love – lo! how they…
Not Heaving From My Ribb’d Breast Only By Walt Whitman
Not heaving from my ribb’d breast only;Not in sighs at night, in rage, dissatisfied with myself;Not in those long-drawn, ill-supprest sighs;Not in many an oath…
Not Heat Flames Up And Consumes By Walt Whitman
Not heat flames up and consumes,Not sea-waves hurry in and out,Not the air, delicious and dry, the air of the ripe summer, bears lightly along…
No Labor-Saving Machine By Walt Whitman
No labor-saving machine,Nor discovery have I made;Nor will I be able to leave behind me any wealthy bequest to found a hospital or library,Nor reminiscence…
Night On The Prairies By Walt Whitman
Night on the prairies;The supper is over – the fire on the ground burns low;The wearied emigrants sleep, wrapt in their blankets:I walk by myself…
Native Moments By Walt Whitman
Native moments! when you come upon me – Ah you are here now! Give me now libidinous joys only! Give me the drench of my passions! Give me…
Myself And Mine By Walt Whitman
Myself and mine gymnastic ever,To stand the cold or heat – to take good aim with a gun – to sail a boat – to…
My Picture-Gallery By Walt Whitman
In a little house keep I pictures suspended, it is not a fix’d house,It is round, it is only a few inches from one side…
Mother And Babe By Walt Whitman
I see the sleeping babe, nestling the breast of its mother;The sleeping mother and babe-hush’d, I study them long and long.