Miracles by Walt Whitman

Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, Or stand under trees in the woods, Or talk by day with anyone I love, or sleep in the bed at night with anyone I love, Or sit at table at dinner with the rest, Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, Or watch honey bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon, Or animals feeding in the fields, Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles, The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place. To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, Every cubic inch of space is a miracle, Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same, Every foot of the interior swarms with the same. To me the sea is a continual miracle, The fishes that swim--the rocks--the motion of the waves--the ships with the men in them, What stranger miracles are there?

O Captain! my Captain!

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought         is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring,      But O heart! heart! heart!           O the bleeding drops of red,                Where on the deck my Captain lies,                     Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores         a‑crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning,      Here, Captain! dear father!           This arm beneath your head;                It is some dream that on the deck                     You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed         and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;      Exult, O shores, and ring O bells!           But I with mournful tread                Walk the deck my Captain lies,                     Fallen cold and dead.

Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman was an American poet, journalist, and essayist. He wrote of nature and was a humanist. It deals with philosophy. He also created Free verse, which is poetry that is musical patterns, and rhyme.

"Never, Never Give Up"

The expression "Never, never give up" does mean to keep trying and never stop working for your goals, but it also means to go for the things you love or make you happy. It doesn't matter how far out of reach they might be if you set your mind to it you can make anything you really want come true. If you really want something go for it and don't let anyone change your mind or slow you down on reaching that goal.