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Best Famous Democratic Poems

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Written by Walt Whitman | Create an image from this poem

Thoughts

 1
OF these years I sing, 
How they pass and have pass’d, through convuls’d pains as through parturitions; 
How America illustrates birth, muscular youth, the promise, the sure fulfillment, the
 Absolute
 Success, despite of people—Illustrates evil as well as good; 
How many hold despairingly yet to the models departed, caste, myths, obedience,
 compulsion, and
 to infidelity; 
How few see the arrived models, the Athletes, the Western States—or see freedom or
 spirituality—or hold any faith in results,
(But I see the Athletes—and I see the results of the war glorious and
 inevitable—and
 they again leading to other results;) 
How the great cities appear—How the Democratic masses, turbulent, wilful, as I love
 them; 
How the whirl, the contest, the wrestle of evil with good, the sounding and resounding,
 keep on
 and on; 
How society waits unform’d, and is for awhile between things ended and things begun; 
How America is the continent of glories, and of the triumph of freedom, and of the
 Democracies,
 and of the fruits of society, and of all that is begun;
And how The States are complete in themselves—And how all triumphs and glories are
 complete in themselves, to lead onward, 
And how these of mine, and of The States, will in their turn be convuls’d, and serve
 other
 parturitions and transitions, 
And how all people, sights, combinations, the Democratic masses, too, serve—and how
 every
 fact, and war itself, with all its horrors, serves, 
And how now, or at any time, each serves the exquisite transition of death. 

2
OF seeds dropping into the ground—of birth,
Of the steady concentration of America, inland, upward, to impregnable and swarming
 places, 
Of what Indiana, Kentucky, Ohio and the rest, are to be, 
Of what a few years will show there in Nebraska, Colorado, Nevada, and the rest; 
(Or afar, mounting the Northern Pacific to Sitka or Aliaska;) 
Of what the feuillage of America is the preparation for—and of what all sights,
 North,
 South, East and West, are;
Of This Union, soak’d, welded in blood—of the solemn price paid—of the
 unnamed
 lost, ever present in my mind; 
—Of the temporary use of materials, for identity’s sake, 
Of the present, passing, departing—of the growth of completer men than any yet, 
Of myself, soon, perhaps, closing up my songs by these shores, 
Of California, of Oregon—and of me journeying to live and sing there;
Of the Western Sea—of the spread inland between it and the spinal river, 
Of the great pastoral area, athletic and feminine, 
of all sloping down there where the fresh free giver, the mother, the Mississippi flows, 
Of future women there—of happiness in those high plateaus, ranging three thousand
 miles,
 warm and cold; 
Of mighty inland cities yet unsurvey’d and unsuspected, (as I am also, and as it must
 be;)
Of the new and good names—of the modern developments—of inalienable homesteads; 
Of a free and original life there—of simple diet and clean and sweet blood; 
Of litheness, majestic faces, clear eyes, and perfect physique there; 
Of immense spiritual results, future years, far west, each side of the Anahuacs; 
Of these leaves, well understood there, (being made for that area;)
Of the native scorn of grossness and gain there; 
(O it lurks in me night and day—What is gain, after all, to savageness and freedom?)


Written by Walt Whitman | Create an image from this poem

As a Strong Bird on Pinions Free

 1
AS a strong bird on pinions free, 
Joyous, the amplest spaces heavenward cleaving, 
Such be the thought I’d think to-day of thee, America, 
Such be the recitative I’d bring to-day for thee. 

The conceits of the poets of other lands I bring thee not,
Nor the compliments that have served their turn so long, 
Nor rhyme—nor the classics—nor perfume of foreign court, or indoor library; 
But an odor I’d bring to-day as from forests of pine in the north, in Maine—or
 breath
 of an Illinois prairie, 
With open airs of Virginia, or Georgia, or Tennessee—or from Texas uplands, or
 Florida’s glades, 
With presentment of Yellowstone’s scenes, or Yosemite;
And murmuring under, pervading all, I’d bring the rustling sea-sound, 
That endlessly sounds from the two great seas of the world. 

And for thy subtler sense, subtler refrains, O Union! 
Preludes of intellect tallying these and thee—mind-formulas fitted for
 thee—real, and
 sane, and large as these and thee; 
Thou, mounting higher, diving deeper than we knew—thou transcendental Union!
By thee Fact to be justified—blended with Thought; 
Thought of Man justified—blended with God: 
Through thy Idea—lo! the immortal Reality! 
Through thy Reality—lo! the immortal Idea! 

2
Brain of the New World! what a task is thine!
To formulate the Modern.....Out of the peerless grandeur of the modern, 
Out of Thyself—comprising Science—to recast Poems, Churches, Art, 
(Recast—may-be discard them, end them—May-be their work is done—who knows?)

By vision, hand, conception, on the background of the mighty past, the dead, 
To limn, with absolute faith, the mighty living present.

(And yet, thou living, present brain! heir of the dead, the Old World brain! 
Thou that lay folded, like an unborn babe, within its folds so long! 
Thou carefully prepared by it so long!—haply thou but unfoldest it—only maturest
 it; 
It to eventuate in thee—the essence of the by-gone time contain’d in thee; 
Its poems, churches, arts, unwitting to themselves, destined with reference to thee,
The fruit of all the Old, ripening to-day in thee.) 

3
Sail—sail thy best, ship of Democracy! 
Of value is thy freight—’tis not the Present only, 
The Past is also stored in thee! 
Thou holdest not the venture of thyself alone—not of thy western continent alone;
Earth’s résumé entire floats on thy keel, O ship—is
 steadied by
 thy spars; 
With thee Time voyages in trust—the antecedent nations sink or swim with thee; 
With all their ancient struggles, martyrs, heroes, epics, wars, thou bear’st the
 other
 continents; 
Theirs, theirs as much as thine, the destination-port triumphant: 
—Steer, steer with good strong hand and wary eye, O helmsman—thou carryest great
 companions,
Venerable, priestly Asia sails this day with thee, 
And royal, feudal Europe sails with thee. 

4
Beautiful World of new, superber Birth, that rises to my eyes, 
Like a limitless golden cloud, filling the western sky; 
Emblem of general Maternity, lifted above all;
Sacred shape of the bearer of daughters and sons; 
Out of thy teeming womb, thy giant babes in ceaseless procession issuing, 
Acceding from such gestation, taking and giving continual strength and life; 
World of the Real! world of the twain in one! 
World of the Soul—born by the world of the real alone—led to identity, body, by
 it
 alone;
Yet in beginning only—incalculable masses of composite, precious materials, 
By history’s cycles forwarded—by every nation, language, hither sent, 
Ready, collected here—a freer, vast, electric World, to be constructed here, 
(The true New World—the world of orbic Science, Morals, Literatures to come,) 
Thou Wonder World, yet undefined, unform’d—neither do I define thee;
How can I pierce the impenetrable blank of the future? 
I feel thy ominous greatness, evil as well as good; 
I watch thee, advancing, absorbing the present, transcending the past; 
I see thy light lighting and thy shadow shadowing, as if the entire globe; 
But I do not undertake to define thee—hardly to comprehend thee;
I but thee name—thee prophecy—as now! 
I merely thee ejaculate! 

Thee in thy future; 
Thee in thy only permanent life, career—thy own unloosen’d mind—thy soaring
 spirit; 
Thee as another equally needed sun, America—radiant, ablaze, swift-moving,
 fructifying
 all;
Thee! risen in thy potent cheerfulness and joy—thy endless, great hilarity! 
(Scattering for good the cloud that hung so long—that weigh’d so long upon the
 mind
 of man, 
The doubt, suspicion, dread, of gradual, certain decadence of man;) 
Thee in thy larger, saner breeds of Female, Male—thee in thy athletes, moral,
 spiritual,
 South, North, West, East, 
(To thy immortal breasts, Mother of All, thy every daughter, son, endear’d alike,
 forever
 equal;)
Thee in thy own musicians, singers, artists, unborn yet, but certain; 
Thee in thy moral wealth and civilization (until which thy proudest material wealth and
 civilization must remain in vain;) 
Thee in thy all-supplying, all-enclosing Worship—thee in no single bible, saviour,
 merely,

Thy saviours countless, latent within thyself—thy bibles incessant, within thyself,
 equal
 to any, divine as any; 
Thee in an education grown of thee—in teachers, studies, students, born of thee;
Thee in thy democratic fetes, en masse—thy high original festivals, operas,
 lecturers,
 preachers; 
Thee in thy ultimata, (the preparations only now completed—the edifice on sure
 foundations
 tied,) 
Thee in thy pinnacles, intellect, thought—thy topmost rational joys—thy love,
 and
 godlike aspiration, 
In thy resplendent coming literati—thy full-lung’d orators—thy sacerdotal
 bards—kosmic savans, 
These! these in thee, (certain to come,) to-day I prophecy.

5
Land tolerating all—accepting all—not for the good alone—all good for thee;

Land in the realms of God to be a realm unto thyself; 
Under the rule of God to be a rule unto thyself. 

(Lo! where arise three peerless stars, 
To be thy natal stars, my country—Ensemble—Evolution—Freedom,
Set in the sky of Law.) 

Land of unprecedented faith—God’s faith! 
Thy soil, thy very subsoil, all upheav’d; 
The general inner earth, so long, so sedulously draped over, now and hence for what it is,
 boldly laid bare, 
Open’d by thee to heaven’s light, for benefit or bale.

Not for success alone; 
Not to fair-sail unintermitted always; 
The storm shall dash thy face—the murk of war, and worse than war, shall cover thee
 all
 over; 
(Wert capable of war—its tug and trials? Be capable of peace, its trials; 
For the tug and mortal strain of nations come at last in peace—not war;)
In many a smiling mask death shall approach, beguiling thee—thou in disease shalt
 swelter;

The livid cancer spread its hideous claws, clinging upon thy breasts, seeking to strike
 thee
 deep within; 
Consumption of the worst—moral consumption—shall rouge thy face with hectic: 
But thou shalt face thy fortunes, thy diseases, and surmount them all, 
Whatever they are to-day, and whatever through time they may be,
They each and all shall lift, and pass away, and cease from thee; 
While thou, Time’s spirals rounding—out of thyself, thyself still extricating,
 fusing, 
Equable, natural, mystical Union thou—(the mortal with immortal blent,) 
Shalt soar toward the fulfilment of the future—the spirit of the body and the mind, 
The Soul—its destinies.

The Soul, its destinies—the real real, 
(Purport of all these apparitions of the real;) 
In thee, America, the Soul, its destinies; 
Thou globe of globes! thou wonder nebulous! 
By many a throe of heat and cold convuls’d—(by these thyself solidifying;)
Thou mental, moral orb! thou New, indeed new, Spiritual World! 
The Present holds thee not—for such vast growth as thine—for such
 unparallel’d
 flight as thine, 
The Future only holds thee, and can hold thee.
Written by Vachel Lindsay | Create an image from this poem

The Proud Farmer

 [In memory of E. S. Frazee, Rush County, Indiana]


Into the acres of the newborn state 
He poured his strength, and plowed his ancient name, 
And, when the traders followed him, he stood 
Towering above their furtive souls and tame. 

That brow without a stain, that fearless eye 
Oft left the passing stranger wondering 
To find such knighthood in the sprawling land, 
To see a democrat well-nigh a king. 

He lived with liberal hand, with guests from far, 
With talk and joke and fellowship to spare, — 
Watching the wide world's life from sun to sun, 
Lining his walls with books from everywhere. 
He read by night, he built his world by day. 
The farm and house of God to him were one. 
For forty years he preached and plowed and wrought — 
A statesman in the fields, who bent to none. 

His plowmen-neighbors were as lords to him. 
His was an ironside, democratic pride. 
He served a rigid Christ, but served him well — 
And, for a lifetime, saved the countryside. 

Here lie the dead, who gave the church their best 
Under his fiery preaching of the word. 
They sleep with him beneath the ragged grass... 
The village withers, by his voice unstirred. 

And tho' his tribe be scattered to the wind 
From the Atlantic to the China sea, 
Yet do they think of that bright lamp he burned 
Of family worth and proud integrity. 

And many a sturdy grandchild hears his name 
In reverence spoken, till he feels akin 
To all the lion-eyed who built the world — 
And lion-dreams begin to burn within.
Written by Ogden Nash | Create an image from this poem

Pretty Halcyon Days

 How pleasant to sit on the beach,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun,
With ocean galore within reach,
And nothing at all to be done!
 No letters to answer,
 No bills to be burned,
 No work to be shirked,
 No cash to be earned,
It is pleasant to sit on the beach
With nothing at all to be done!

How pleasant to look at the ocean,
Democratic and damp; indiscriminate;
It fills me with noble emotion
To think I am able to swim in it.
 To lave in the wave,
 Majestic and chilly,
 Tomorrow I crave;
 But today it is silly.
It is pleasant to look at the ocean;
Tomorrow, perhaps, I shall swim in it.

How pleasant to gaze at the sailors
As their sailboats they manfully sail
With the vigor of vikings and whalers
In the days of the vikings and whale.
 They sport on the brink
 Of the shad and the shark;
 If it’s windy, they sink;
 If it isn’t, they park.
It is pleasant to gaze at the sailors,
To gaze without having to sail.

How pleasant the salt anesthetic
Of the air and the sand and the sun;
Leave the earth to the strong and athletic,
And the sea to adventure upon.
 But the sun and the sand
 No contractor can copy;
 We lie in the land
 Of the lotus and poppy;
We vegetate, calm and aesthetic,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun.
Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

Accordion

 Some carol of the banjo, to its measure keeping time;
Of viol or of lute some make a song.
My battered old accordion, you're worthy of a rhyme,
You've been my friend and comforter so long.
Round half the world I've trotted you, a dozen years or more;
You've given heaps of people lots of fun;
You've set a host of happy feet a-tapping on the floor . . .
Alas! your dancing days are nearly done.

I've played you from the palm-belt to the suburbs of the Pole;
From the silver-tipped sierras to the sea.
The gay and gilded cabin and the grimy glory-hole
Have echoed to your impish melody.
I've hushed you in the dug-out when the trench was stiff with dead;
I've lulled you by the coral-laced lagoon;
I've packed you on a camel from the dung-fire on the bled,
To the hell-for-breakfast Mountains of the Moon.

I've ground you to the shanty men, a-whooping heel and toe,
And the hula-hula graces in the glade.
I've swung you in the igloo to the lousy Esquimau,
And the Haussa at a hundred in the shade.
The ****** on the levee, and the Dinka by the Nile
have shuffled to your insolent appeal.
I've rocked with glee the chimpanzee, and mocked the crocodile,
And shocked the pompous penquin and the seal.

I've set the yokels singing in a little Surrey pub,
Apaches swinging in a Belville bar.
I've played an obligato to the tom-tom's rub-a-dub,
And the throb of Andalusian guitar.
From the Horn to Honolulu, from the Cape to Kalamazoo,
From Wick to Wicklow, Samarkand to Spain,
You've roughed it with my kilt-bag like a comrade tried and true. . . .
Old pal! We'll never hit the trail again.

Oh I know you're cheap and vulgar, you're an instrumental crime.
In drawing-rooms you haven't got a show.
You're a musical abortion, you're the voice of grit and grime,
You're the spokesman of the lowly and the low.
You're a democratic devil, you're the darling of the mob;
You're a wheezy, breezy blasted bit of glee.
You're the headache of the high-bow, you're the horror of the snob,
but you're worth your weight in ruddy gold to me.

For you've chided me in weakness and you've cheered me in defeat;
You've been an anodyne in hours of pain;
And when the slugging jolts of life have jarred me off my feet,
You've ragged me back into the ring again.
I'll never go to Heaven, for I know I am not fit,
The golden harps of harmony to swell;
But with asbestos bellows, if the devil will permit,
I'll swing you to the fork-tailed imps of Hell.

Yes, I'll hank you, and I'll spank you,
And I'll everlasting yank you
To the cinder-swinging satellites of Hell.


Written by Eugene Field | Create an image from this poem

Mr. Dana of the New York Sun

 Thar showed up out'n Denver in the spring uv '81
A man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.
His name wuz Cantell Whoppers, 'nd he wuz a sight ter view
Ez he walked inter the orfice 'nd inquired fer work ter do.
Thar warn't no places vacant then,--fer be it understood,
That wuz the time when talent flourished at that altitood;
But thar the stranger lingered, tellin' Raymond 'nd the rest
Uv what perdigious wonders he could do when at his best,
Till finally he stated (quite by chance) that he hed done
A heap uv work with Dana on the Noo York Sun.

Wall, that wuz quite another thing; we owned that ary cuss
Who'd worked f'r Mr. Dana must be good enough fer us!
And so we tuk the stranger's word 'nd nipped him while we could,
For if we didn't take him we knew John Arkins would;
And Cooper, too, wuz mouzin' round fer enterprise 'nd brains,
Whenever them commodities blew in across the plains.
At any rate we nailed him, which made ol' Cooper swear
And Arkins tear out handfuls uv his copious curly hair;
But we set back and cackled, 'nd bed a power uv fun
With our man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.

It made our eyes hang on our cheeks 'nd lower jaws ter drop,
Ter hear that feller tellin' how ol' Dana run his shop:
It seems that Dana wuz the biggest man you ever saw,--
He lived on human bein's, 'nd preferred to eat 'em raw!
If he hed Democratic drugs ter take, before he took 'em,
As good old allopathic laws prescribe, he allus shook 'em.
The man that could set down 'nd write like Dany never grew,
And the sum of human knowledge wuzn't half what Dana knew;
The consequence appeared to be that nearly every one
Concurred with Mr. Dana of the Noo York Sun.

This feller, Cantell Whoppers, never brought an item in,--
He spent his time at Perrin's shakin' poker dice f'r gin.
Whatever the assignment, he wuz allus sure to shirk,
He wuz very long on likker and all-fired short on work!
If any other cuss had played the tricks he dared ter play,
The daisies would be bloomin' over his remains to-day;
But somehow folks respected him and stood him to the last,
Considerin' his superior connections in the past.
So, when he bilked at poker, not a sucker drew a gun
On the man who 'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.

Wall, Dana came ter Denver in the fall uv '83.
A very different party from the man we thought ter see,--
A nice 'nd clean old gentleman, so dignerfied 'nd calm,
You bet yer life he never did no human bein' harm!
A certain hearty manner 'nd a fulness uv the vest
Betokened that his sperrits 'nd his victuals wuz the best;
His face wuz so benevolent, his smile so sweet 'nd kind,
That they seemed to be the reflex uv an honest, healthy mind;
And God had set upon his head a crown uv silver hair
In promise uv the golden crown He meaneth him to wear.
So, uv us boys that met him out'n Denver, there wuz none
But fell in love with Dana uv the Noo York Sun.

But when he came to Denver in that fall uv '83,
His old friend Cantell Whoppers disappeared upon a spree;
The very thought uv seein' Dana worked upon him so
(They hadn't been together fer a year or two, you know),
That he borrered all the stuff he could and started on a bat,
And, strange as it may seem, we didn't see him after that.
So, when ol' Dana hove in sight, we couldn't understand
Why he didn't seem to notice that his crony wa'n't on hand;
No casual allusion, not a question, no, not one,
For the man who'd "worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun!"

We broke it gently to him, but he didn't seem surprised,
Thar wuz no big burst uv passion as we fellers had surmised.
He said that Whoppers wuz a man he 'd never heerd about,
But he mought have carried papers on a Jarsey City route;
And then he recollected hearin' Mr. Laffan say
That he'd fired a man named Whoppers fur bein' drunk one day,
Which, with more likker underneath than money in his vest,
Had started on a freight-train fur the great 'nd boundin' West,
But further information or statistics he had none
Uv the man who'd "worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun."

We dropped the matter quietly 'nd never made no fuss,--
When we get played for suckers, why, that's a horse on us!--
But every now 'nd then we Denver fellers have to laff
To hear some other paper boast uv havin' on its staff
A man who's "worked with Dana," 'nd then we fellers wink
And pull our hats down on our eyes 'nd set around 'nd think.
It seems like Dana couldn't be as smart as people say,
If he educates so many folks 'nd lets 'em get away;
And, as for us, in future we'll be very apt to shun
The man who "worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun."

But bless ye, Mr. Dana! may you live a thousan' years,
To sort o' keep things lively in this vale of human tears;
An' may I live a thousan', too,--a thousan' less a day,
For I shouldn't like to be on earth to hear you'd passed away.
And when it comes your time to go you'll need no Latin chaff
Nor biographic data put in your epitaph;
But one straight line of English and of truth will let folks know
The homage 'nd the gratitude 'nd reverence they owe;
You'll need no epitaph but this: "Here sleeps the man who run
That best 'nd brightest paper, the Noo York Sun."
Written by Thomas Lux | Create an image from this poem

Virgule

 What I love about this little leaning mark
is how it divides
without divisiveness. The left
or bottom side prying that choice up or out,
the right or top side pressing down upon
its choice: either/or,
his/her. Sometimes called a slash (too harsh), a slant
(a little dizzy, but the Dickinson association
nice: "Tell all the Truth but tell it slant--"), solidus (sounding
too much like a Roman legionnaire
of many campaigns),
or a separatrix (reminding one of a sexual
variant). No, I like virgule. I like the word
and I like the function: "Whichever is appropriate
may be chosen to complete the sense."
There is something democratic
about that, grown-up; a long
and slender walking stick set against the house.
Virgule: it feels good in your mouth.
Virgule: its foot on backwards, trochaic, that's OK, American.
Virgule: you could name your son that,
or your daughter Virgula. I'm sorry now
I didn't think to give my daughter such a name
though I doubt that she and/or
her mother would share that thought.
Written by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe | Create an image from this poem

Distichs

 CHORDS are touch'd by Apollo,--the death-laden 
bow, too, he bendeth;

While he the shepherdess charms, Python he lays 
in the dust.

WHAT is merciful censure? To make thy faults appear 
smaller?

May be to veil them? No, no! O'er them to raise 
thee on high!

DEMOCRATIC food soon cloys on the multitude's stomach;
But I'll wager, ere long, other thou'lt give them instead.

WHAT in France has pass'd by, the Germans continue 
to practise,

For the proudest of men flatters the people and 
fawns.

WHO is the happiest of men? He who values the merits 
of others,
And in their pleasure takes joy, even as though 'twere his own.

NOT in the morning alone, not only at mid-day he 
charmeth;

Even at setting, the sun is still the same glorious 
planet.
Written by Walt Whitman | Create an image from this poem

One's-Self I Sing

 ONE’S-SELF I sing—a simple, separate Person; 
Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-masse. 

Of Physiology from top to toe I sing; 
Not physiognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the muse—I say the
 Form complete is worthier far; 
The Female equally with the male I sing.

Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power, 
Cheerful—for freest action form’d, under the laws divine, 
The Modern Man I sing.
Written by Emily Dickinson | Create an image from this poem

Color -- Caste -- Denomination --

 Color -- Caste -- Denomination --
These -- are Time's Affair --
Death's diviner Classifying
Does not know they are --

As in sleep -- All Hue forgotten --
Tenets -- put behind --
Death's large -- Democratic fingers
Rub away the Brand --

If Circassian -- He is careless --
If He put away
Chrysalis of Blonde -- or Umber --
Equal Butterfly --

They emerge from His Obscuring --
What Death -- knows so well --
Our minuter intuitions --
Deem unplausible --

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry