July 18, 2010

Poem-A-Day: Walt Whitman, Song of Myself, XI

Academy of American Poets

July 18, 2010

Today's poem is from Leaves of Grass.

Read more about this book.




Other Whitman Poems

  • A child said, What is the grass?
  • A Clear Midnight
  • A noiseless patient spider
  • A Woman Waits for Me
  • America


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    Song of Myself, XI
    by Walt Whitman

    Twenty-eight young men bathe by the shore,
    Twenty-eight young men and all so friendly;
    Twenty-eight years of womanly life and all so lonesome.

    She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank,
    She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the window.

    Which of the young men does she like the best?
    Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her.

    Where are you off to, lady? for I see you,
    You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.

    Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth bather,
    The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them.

    The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long
    hair,
    Little streams pass'd over their bodies.

    An unseen hand also pass'd over their bodies,
    It descended trembling from their temples and ribs.

    The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the sun,
    they do not ask who seizes fast to them,
    They do not know who puffs and declines with the pendant and bending
    arch,
    They do not think whom they souse with spray.

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    July 17, 2010

    Poem-A-Day: Emily Dickinson, A Drop fell on the Apple Tree (794)

    Academy of American Poets

    July 10, 2010

    Today's poem is from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, published by Little, Brown & Co.

    Read more about this book.




    Other Dickinson Poems

  • A Bird came down the Walk (328)
  • A Man may make a Remark (952)
  • Because I could not stop for Death (712)
  • Come Slowly—Eden (211)
  • Fame is a fickle food (1659)

  • You can unsubscribe from our Poem-A-Day emails at at anytime—either completely, or until next April.

    Academy of American Poets
    584 Broadway
    Suite 604
    New York, NY 10012
    212-274-0343
    academy@poets.org



    A Drop fell on the Apple Tree (794)
    by Emily Dickinson

    A Drop fell on the Apple Tree -
    Another - on the Roof -
    A Half a Dozen kissed the Eaves -
    And made the Gables laugh -

    A few went out to help the Brook
    That went to help the Sea -
    Myself Conjectured were they Pearls -
    What Necklaces could be -

    The Dust replaced, in Hoisted Roads -
    The Birds jocoser sung -
    The Sunshine threw his Hat away -
    The Bushes - spangles flung -

    The Breezes brought dejected Lutes -
    And bathed them in the Glee -
    The Orient showed a single Flag,
    And signed the fête away -

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