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Poem by Walt Whitman


Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 9. My Canary Bird


Did we count great, O soul, to penetrate the themes of mighty books,
Absorbing deep and full from thoughts, plays, speculations?
But now from thee to me, caged bird, to feel thy joyous warble,
Filling the air, the lonesome room, the long forenoon,
Is it not just as great, O soul?



Walt Whitman


Walt Whitman's other poems:
  1. Leaves of Grass. 21. Drum-Taps. 35. How Solemn As One by One [Washington City, 1865]
  2. Leaves of Grass. 30. Whispers of Heavenly Death. 5. Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours
  3. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 7. The Pallid Wreath
  4. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 28. Old Salt Kossabone
  5. Leaves of Grass. 32. From Noon to Starry Night. 9. Excelsior


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