Quote by: Walt Whitman

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading – treading – till it seemed That Sense was breaking through – And when they all were seated, A Service, like a Drum – Kept beating – beating – till I thought My Mind was going numb – And then I heard them lift a Box And creak across my Soul With those same Boots of Lead, again, Then Space – began to toll, As all the Heavens were a Bell, And Being, but an Ear, And I, and Silence, some strange Race Wrecked, solitary, here – And then a Plank in Reason, broke, And I dropped down, and down – And hit a World, at every plunge, And Finished knowing – then –


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Author Bio


  • NameWalt Whitman
  • DescriptionAmerican poet, essayist and journalist
  • AliasesWalter "Walt" Whitman; Walter Whitman
  • BornMay 31, 1819
  • DiedMarch 26, 1892
  • CountryUnited States Of America
  • ProfessionNurse; Poet; Novelist; Journalist; Essayist; Writer