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Quote by Walt Whitman

“Press close, bare-bosomed Night! Press close, magnetic, nourishing Night! Night of south winds! Night of the large, few stars! Still, nodding Night! Mad, naked, Summer Night! from Strophe 21, "Song of Myself”

Quote by Walt Whitman

Work

Leaves of Grass

Walt Whitman's 'Leaves of Grass' is a landmark work in American literature, featuring free verse and celebrating the beauty of nature and the human spirit. The collection encompasses a wide range of subjects, from the mundane to the profound, reflecting Whitman's belief in the inherent worth of every individual. more

Author

Walt Whitman
Walt Whitman

American poet, considered one of the pioneers of American poetry. His work, 'Leaves of Grass,' has had a profound impact on American poetry. more

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“June dawns, July noons, August evenings over, finished, done, and gone forever with only the sense of it all left here in his head. Now, a whole autumn, a white winter, a cool and greening spring to figure sums and totals of summer past. And if he should forget, the dandelion wine stood in the cellar, numbered huge for each and every day. He would go there often, stare straight into the sun until he could stare no more, then close his eyes and consider the burned spots, the fleeting scars left dancing on his warm eyelids; arranging, rearranging each fire and reflection until the pattern was clear... So thinking, he slept. And, sleeping, put an end to Summer, 1928.”

“And summer's surely really all about an imagined end. We head for it instinctually like it must mean something. We're always looking for it, looking it, heading towards it all year, the way a horizon holds the promise of a sunset. We're always looking for the full open leaf, the open warmth, the promise that we'll one day soon surely be able to lie back and have summer done to us; one day soon we’ll be treated well by the world. Like there really is a kinder finale and it's not just possible but assured, there's a natural harmony that'll be spread at your feet, unrolled like a sunlit landscape just for you. As if what it was always all about, your time on earth, was the full happy stretch of all the muscles of the body on a warmed patch of grass, one long sweet stem of that grass in the mouth. Care free. What a thought. Summer.”

Book:Summer

“Spring flew swiftly by, and summer came; and if the village had been beautiful at first, it was now in the full glow and luxuriance of its richness. The great trees, which had looked shrunken and bare in the earlier months, had now burst into strong life and health; and stretching forth their green arms over the thirsty ground, converted open and naked spots into choice nooks, where was a deep and pleasant shade from which to look upon the wide prospect, steeped in sunshine, which lay stretched out beyond. The earth had donned her mantle of brightest green; and shed her richest perfumes abroad. It was the prime and vigour of the year; all things were glad and flourishing.”