A Noiseless Patient Spider
Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1891-92): 343. PS 3201 1891 Robarts Library.
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.
Publication Start Year:
Broadway Magazine (Oct. 1868)
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