A Noiseless Patient Spider

A noiseless, patient spider,
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.

by Walt Whitman

Comments (28)

dis shit faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake
So beautiful writings of this poem which narrates the minute details of world tragic moments.
Well communicated! Sylva
Read this poem some time back. it left the impression that I can't forget. Just superb. Once I saw a spider in its web. The atmosphere was as such that I ended up writing that impression.
Nice, symbolism of life.
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