• Skip to main content
  • Skip to secondary menu
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

Poetry Catalog

We honor great poets. We honor great poetry.

  • Home
  • About
  • Contact
  • Submit Your Work
  • Writers
  • Advertising / Subscription

Years Of The Modern, By: Walt Whitman

October 17, 2026 by Editors

pc

Years of the modern! years of the unperform’d!
Your horizon rises, I see it parting away for more august dramas,
I see not America only, not only Liberty’s nation but other nations preparing,
I see tremendous entrances and exits, new combinations, the solidarity of races,
I see that force advancing with irresistible power on the world’s stage,
(Have the old forces, the old wars, played their parts? are the acts suitable to them closed?)
I see Freedom, completely arm’d and victorious and very haughty, with Law on one side and Peace on the other,
A stupendous trio all issuing forth against the idea of caste;
What historic denouements are these we so rapidly approach?
I see men marching and countermarching by swift millions,
I see the frontiers and boundaries of the old aristocracies broken,
I see the landmarks of European kings removed,
I see this day the People beginning their landmarks, (all others give way;)
Never were such sharp questions ask’d as this day,
Never was average man, his soul, more energetic, more like a God,
Lo, how he urges and urges, leaving the masses no rest!
His daring foot is on land and sea everywhere, he colonizes the
Pacific, the archipelagoes,
With the steamship, the electric telegraph, the newspaper, the
wholesale engines of war,
With these and the world-spreading factories he interlinks all
geography, all lands;
What whispers are these O lands, running ahead of you, passing under the seas?
Are all nations communing? is there going to be but one heart to the globe?
Is humanity forming en-masse? for lo, tyrants tremble, crowns grow dim,
The earth, restive, confronts a new era, perhaps a general divine war,
No one knows what will happen next, such portents fill the days and nights;
Years prophetical! the space ahead as I walk, as I vainly try to pierce it, is full of phantoms,
Unborn deeds, things soon to be, project their shapes around me,
This incredible rush and heat, this strange ecstatic fever of dreams O years!
Your dreams O years, how they penetrate through me! (I know not
whether I sleep or wake;)
The perform’d America and Europe grow dim, retiring in shadow behind me,
The unperform’d, more gigantic than ever, advance, advance upon me.

Read all of Walt Whitman's poems · About Walt Whitman

More by Walt Whitman

  • Ashes Of Soldiers
  • Thoughts (Of These Years I Sing)
  • Song At Sunset
  • As At Thy Portals Also Death
  • My Legacy

Write poetry? Submit your poem to Poetry Catalog

Share this:

  • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
  • Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr
  • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest

Related

Filed Under: Poems

Get Every Post In Your Inbox 😳

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
(This is not the newsletter.)

Primary Sidebar

Never Miss A Poem (Newsletter)

Be Social

  • X
  • Facebook

Top Posts & Pages

  • Poetry Submission Deadlines November 2026
    Poetry Submission Deadlines November 2026
  • What Is O Captain! My Captain! About?
    What Is O Captain! My Captain! About?
  • Personal Talk, By: William Wordsworth
    Personal Talk, By: William Wordsworth
  • The Sleeper, By: Edgar Allan Poe
    The Sleeper, By: Edgar Allan Poe
  • Ah, Sunflower, By: William Blake
    Ah, Sunflower, By: William Blake
  • The Raven Summary and Analysis
    The Raven Summary and Analysis
  • Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part I. - XVII - Conversion, By: William Wordsworth
    Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part I. - XVII - Conversion, By: William Wordsworth
  • I Heard (Alas! 'Twas Only In A Dream), By: William Wordsworth
    I Heard (Alas! 'Twas Only In A Dream), By: William Wordsworth
  • Ghosts, By: Emily Dickinson
    Ghosts, By: Emily Dickinson
  • Steamboats, Viaducts, And Railways, By: William Wordsworth
    Steamboats, Viaducts, And Railways, By: William Wordsworth

Advertising/Subscribing = Loving

Buy Me A Coffee

Footer

Made with ❤ in Lubbock, TX.

Public Domain Poetry

Poetry Catalog Sponsors

Haiku Examples

Search

Copyright © 2026 · Magazine Pro on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in