Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO THE SUN-SET BREEZE, by WALT WHITMAN


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TO THE SUN-SET BREEZE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Ah, whispering, something again, unseen
Last Line: Hast thou no soul? Can I not know, identify thee?


Ah, whispering, something again, unseen,
Where late this heated day thou enterest at my window, door,
Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-freshing, gently vitalizing
Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, melted-worn with sweat;
Thou, nestling, folding close and firm yet soft, companion
better than talk, book, art,
(Thou hast, O Nature! elements! utterance to my heart
beyond the rest -- and this is of them,)
So sweet thy primitive taste to breathe within -- thy
soothing fingers on my face and hands,
Thou, messenger-magical strange bringer to body and spirit of me,
(Distances balk'd -- occult medicines penetrating me from
head to foot,)
I feel the sky, the prairies vast -- I feel the mighty northern lakes,
I feel the ocean and the forest -- somehow I feel the globe
itself swiftswimming in space;
Thou blown from lips so loved, now gone -- haply from
endless store, God-sent,
(For thou art spiritual, Godly, most of all known to my sense,)
Minister to speak to me, here and now, what word has never
told, and cannot tell,
Art thou not universal concrete's distillation? Law's, all
Astronomy's last refinement?
Hast thou no soul? Can I not know, identify thee?





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