Tears

Walt Whitman

   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!                                                   10
   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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