Whitman's "A Noiseless Patient Spider"

Below are the various known verse versions of this poem, arranged in chronological order. For a discussion of Whitman's composition process and a transcription of the earliest known prose jottings that led to this poem, see the Whitman composition page.

1862 Notebook draft (untitled)

    The Soul, reaching throwing out for love,
As the spider,on a^{from some} little promon-
    tory, throwing out filament
    after filament, tirelessly from ^{out of}
    himself, ^itself that one at least
    may catch, and form a
    link, a bridge, a connection
(as the the
_______________________________
    O I saw one passing alone, and silent!^{saying hardly a word}
--yet full of love I detected him, by certain
                                        signs
O eyes ever wishfully turning!
O those eyes turning [illeg.]^wishfully!in the street!^{O silent eyes!}
_______________________________
For ^^{Then I thought of you oer the world}
    O the latent ocens, the fathomless
    sweet oceans of love! the
    yearning and fervid! O ^ ^{and of you} sweet souls
        ^perhaps of ^ ^for the future delicious and long:
^{But Dead.} Dying unknown on this earth--ungiven,
    ^{dark here, ripple} unspoken, never born!
Those ^You fathomless latent souls of love.--
    those ^ ^you pent and unknown oceans
    of love!

1868 version in The Broadway. A London Magazine

WHISPERS OF HEAVENLY DEATH.*

By Walt Whitman.

__________

1.

WHISPERS of heavenly death, murmur'd I hear;
Labial gossip of night--sibilant chorals;
Footsteps gently ascending--mystical breezes, wafted soft
    and low;
Ripples of unseen rivers--tides of a current, flowing, forever
    flowing;
(Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of
    human tears?)

I see, just see, skyward, great cloud-masses;
Mournfully, slowly they roll, silently swelling and mixing;
With, at times, a half-dimm'd, saddend, far-off star,
Appearing and disappearing.

Some parturition, rather--some solemn, immortal birth:
On the frontiers, to eyes impenetrable,
Some Soul is passing over.

__________

2.

DAREST thou now, O Soul,
Walk out with me toward the Unknown Region,
Where neither ground is for the feet, nor any path to follow?

No map, there, nor guide,
Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand,
Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that
    land.

I know it not, O Soul,
Nor dost thou--all is a blank before us;
All waits, undream'd of, in that region--that inaccessible land.

'Till, when the ties loosen,
All but the ties eternal, Time and Space,
Nor darkness, gravitation, sense, nor any bounds, bound us.

Then we burst forth--we float,
In Time and Space, O Soul--prepared for them;
Equal, equipt at last--(O joy! O fruit of all!) them to fulfil, O
    Soul.

__________

3.

A NOISELESS, patient spider,
I mark'd, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark'd how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them--ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,--seeking
    the spheres, to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form'd--till the ductile anchor
    hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my
    Soul.

__________

4.

AT the last, tenderly,
From the walls of the powerful, fortress'd house,
From the clasp of the knitted locks--from the keep of the
    well-closed doors;
Let me be wafted.

Let me glide noiselessly forth;
With the key of softness unlock the locks--with a whisper,
Set ope the doors, O Soul!

Tenderly! be not impatient!
(Strong is your hold, O mortal flesh!
Strong is your hold, O love.)

__________

5.

PENSIVE and faltering,
The words, the Dead, I write;
For living are the Dead;
(Haply the only living, only real,
And I the apparition--I the spectre.)

     * This Poem has been written expressly for this Magazine.--ED.

1871 version from Passage to India

A NOISELESS PATIENT SPIDER

¹A noiseless patient spider,
I mark'd, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark'd how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them--ever tirelessly speeding them.

²And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,--seeking the
    spheres, to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form'd--till the ductile
    anchor hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere,
    O my Soul.

1881 version from Leaves of Grass

A NOISELESS PATIENT SPIDER

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres     to connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductile anchor
    hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my
    soul.