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Walt Whitman - Tears
Work rating: Medium

TEARS! tears! tears!
In the night, in solitude, tears;
On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck`d in by the sand;
Tears—not a star shining—all dark and desolate;
Moist tears from the eyes of a muffled head:
—O who is that ghost?—that form in the dark, with tears?
What shapeless lump is that, bent, crouch`d there on the sand?
Streaming tears—sobbing tears—throes, choked with wild cries;
O storm, embodied, rising, careering, with swift steps along the
         beach;
O wild and dismal night storm, with wind! O belching and
         desperate!                                                   


O shade, so sedate and decorous by day, with calm countenance and
         regulated pace;
But away, at night, as you fly, none looking—O then the unloosen`d
         ocean,
Of tears! tears! tears!
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