I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
 Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it would be blithe and strong,
 The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
 The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
 The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on
the steamboat deck,
 The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,

 The woodcutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morning, or at noon
intermission or at sundown,
 The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the
girl sewing or washing,
 Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
 The day what belongs to the day --- at night the party of young fellows,
robust, friendly,
 Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

No prizes for guessing the poet…

(1860).

For modern readers who’ve grown up on a steady diet of free verse, it’s difficult to appreciate just how revolutionary Whitman’s poetry was for its time. But think about it - by the mid-1800s, the bright young flames of the Romantic Revolution had become tired old embers¹; emotion was obscured by sentiment; originality by imitation and flattery; righteousness by moralising. Indeed, a return to the worst excesses of the Augustan poets seemed on the cards, as writers rehashed the past with no inkling of the way the future was being shaped around them².

Walt Whitman changed all that. His work came like a breath of fresh air to a reading public stifled by conventional form and diction. His words were simple and heartfelt, his rhythms natural and unaffected, his ideas sincere and straightforward. Leaves of Grass is one of the great national epics, a testimony to the freedom of spirit and endeavour that coloured Whitman’s vision of his country – he gave a voice to the New World, and in his songs we hear America singing.

— Thomas

PS. This is only a small part of what I have to say about Walt Whitman; I’ve saved the rest (both good and bad) for later. Watch this space!

[Footnotes]

[Previous Poems]

When I Heard The Learn’d Astronomer is a poem I strongly dislike because of its central thesis; nevertheless, it’s worth reading for the artistry of its verse alone. You can find it at poem #54
In addition to the poem itself, there’s a brief biography of Whitman, and a longish essay on his importance as a poet (this essay expands on what I’ve said today, and has a lot more interesting material besides).

Oh Captain! My Captain! is one of Whitman’s most popular poems, and justly so. It’s archived at poem #157

And of course, you can read all of our previous poems at
The Wondering Minstrels