Poem

A Clear Midnight*
by Walt Whitman

This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,

Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson

done,

Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the

themes thou lovest best,

Night, sleep, death and the stars.



* This is not really double spaced, but the lines appear different if it is not double spaced here. His lines are just really long. I like that about Whitman. It makes his work very musical.