Hast Never Come To Thee An Hour

Walt Whitman

   HAST never come to thee an hour,
   A sudden gleam divine, precipitating, bursting all these bubbles,
         fashions, wealth?
   These eager business aims--books, politics, art, amours,
   To utter nothingness?

Next 10 Poems

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• Walt Whitman : How Solemn As One By One
• Walt Whitman : Hush'd Be The Camps To-day
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• Walt Whitman : I Am He That Aches With Love
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Previous 10 Poems

• Walt Whitman : Had I The Choice
• Walt Whitman : Great Are The Myths
• Walt Whitman : God
• Walt Whitman : Gliding Over All
• Walt Whitman : Give Me The Splendid, Silent Sun
• Walt Whitman : Germs
• Walt Whitman : Full Of Life, Now
• Walt Whitman : From Pent-up Aching Rivers
• Walt Whitman : From Paumanok Starting
• Walt Whitman : From My Last Years