Nothing New

The great writers, one piece at a time.

Walt Whitman · Leaves of Grass

Poem 362 of 382 · Sands at Seventy

Shakspere-Bacon’s Cipher

— ✻ —

I doubt it not--then more, far more; In each old song bequeath’d--in every noble page or text, (Different--something unreck’d before--some unsuspected author,) In every object, mountain, tree, and star--in every birth and life, As part of each--evolv’d from each--meaning, behind the ostent, A mystic cipher waits infolded.

Receive Walt Whitman one poem at a time, every morning.
Subscribe →