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Poems by Walt Whitman

VISAGES.

Reading edition

Of the visages of things—And of piercing through to the accepted hells beneath. Of ugliness—To me there is just as much in it as there is in beauty—And now the ugliness of human beings is acceptable to me. Of detected persons—To me, detected persons are not, in any respect, worse than undetected persons—and are not in any respect worse than I am myself. Of criminals—To me, any judge, or any juror, is equally criminal—and any reputable person is also—and the President is also.

THE DARK SIDE.

I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all oppression and shame; I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with themselves, remorseful after deeds done; I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying, neglected, gaunt, desperate; I see the wife misused by her husband—I see the treacherous seducer of young women; I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love, attempted to be hid— I see these sights on the earth; I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny—I see martyrs and prisoners; I observe a famine at sea—I observe the sailors casting lots who shall be killed, to preserve the lives of the rest; I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons upon labourers, the poor, and upon negroes, and the like; All these—all the meanness and agony without end, I, sitting, look out upon; See, hear, and am silent.

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