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Walt Whitman - Miracles.

WHY! who makes much of a miracle? 
As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles, 
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, 
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, 
Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods, 
Or talk by day with any one I love—or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love, 
Or sit at table at dinner with my mother, 
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, 
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive, of a summer forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields, 
Or birds—or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, 
Or the wonderfulness of the sun-down—or of stars shining so quiet and bright, 
Or the exquisite, delicate, thin curve of the new moon in spring; 
Or whether I go among those I like best, and that like me best—mechanics, boatmen,
	farmers,
Or among the savans—or to the soiree—or to the opera, 
Or stand a long while looking at the movements of machinery, 
Or behold children at their sports, 
Or the admirable sight of the perfect old man, or the perfect old woman, 
Or the sick in hospitals, or the dead carried to burial,
Or my own eyes and figure in the glass; 
These, with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles, 
The whole referring—yet each distinct, and in its place. 
  
To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, 
Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same, 
Every foot of the interior swarms with the same; 
Every spear of grass—the frames, limbs, organs, of men and women, and all that
    concerns
	them, 
All these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles. 
  
To me the sea is a continual miracle;
The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—the ships, with men
    in
	them, 
What stranger miracles are there?

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Added: Feb 7 2004 | Viewed: 23451 times | Comments and analysis of Miracles. by Walt Whitman Comments (12)

Miracles. - Comments and Information

Poet: Walt Whitman
Poem: 8. Miracles.
Volume: Leaves of Grass
- 20. Leaves of Grass
Year: Published/Written in 1900

Comment 12 of 12, added on July 17th, 2011 at 10:20 PM.
NjbiTkHF

Great thinking! That ralely breaks the mold!

Independence from Zambia
Comment 11 of 12, added on February 11th, 2011 at 2:52 PM.

i have been reading a lot of walts work and i find it hard to know if he really means what he is saying in his poem. a lot of his work is expressing his own feelings about things and i have to wonder how he came up with such an optimistic poem considering how big of a change it seems to be from his other work

Reyna from United States
Comment 10 of 12, added on March 24th, 2009 at 9:41 AM.

yes! we miss and neglect many things no matter they are near or far away from us. There are so many things around us that we should care about more surroundings, maybe someday we will find that there is a beautiful scenery ahead of us!

jonny from China

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