Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
A Noiseless Patient Spider
1A noiseless patient spider,
2I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
3Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
4It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,
5Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
6And you O my soul where you stand,
7Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
8Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
9Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold,
10Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.
Online text copyright © 2009, Ian Lancashire (the Department of English) and the University of Toronto.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.
Original text: Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1891-92): 343. PS 3201 1891 Robarts Library.
First publication date:
October
1868
Publication date note: Broadway Magazine (Oct. 1868)
RPO poem editor: Ian Lancashire
RP edition: RPO 1998.
Recent editing: 2:2002/2/27
Composition date:
1868
Rhyme: unrhyming
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