A Noiseless Patient Spider

Walt Whitman

1819 to 1892

Poem Image
Track 1

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Mark’d how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,
A noiseless patient spider,
I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself,

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