Walt Whitman

Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours

Walter "Walt" Whitman was an American poet, essayist and journalist.







  YET, yet, ye downcast hours, I know ye also;
  Weights of lead, how ye clog and cling at my ankles!
  Earth to a chamber of mourning turns--I hear the o'erweening, mocking
  voice,
  Matter is conqueror--matter, triumphant only, continues onward.

  Despairing cries float ceaselessly toward me,
  The call of my nearest lover, putting forth, alarm'd, uncertain,
  The Sea I am quickly to sail, come tell me,
  Come tell me where I am speeding--tell me my destination.

  I understand your anguish, but I cannot help you,
  I approach, hear, behold--the sad mouth, the look out of the eyes,
  your mute inquiry, 10
  Whither I go from the bed I recline on, come tell me:
  Old age, alarm'd, uncertain--A young woman's voice, appealing to me
  for comfort;
  A young man's voice, Shall I not escape?

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