A Noiseless Patient Spider

Walt Whitman

1819 to 1892

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Track 1

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