Walt Whitman-A noiseless, patient spider?

Question

Do you know any poems of Walt Whitman that can be contrasted with his poem A noiseless patient spider in the terms of themes?

Answer 1

Walt Whitman (1819–1892).

A Noiseless Patient Spider (From Leaves of Grass, 1900 ed.)

A NOISELESS, patient spider,
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.


So Whitman here is telling himself to write his poems, to create his art, and to ceaselessly introduce them to the world.

In Leaves of Grass, Whitman has numerous poems about his need to write, to connect to others, to ceaselessly go on. If you read all of them, you will have a much better idea of Whitman's directions.

But for your question, try to compare the themes of the Spider poem with these two, from the same Edition, 1900, of Leaves of Grass:


Weave in, Weave in, My Hardy Life

WEAVE in! weave in, my hardy life!
Weave yet a soldier strong and full, for great campaigns to come;Weave in red blood! weave sinews in, like ropes! the senses, sight weave in!
Weave lasting sure! weave day and night the weft, the warp, incessant weave! tire not!
(We know not what the use, O life! nor know the aim, the end—nor really aught we know;
But know the work, the need goes on, and shall go on—the death-envelop’d march of peace as well as war goes on;)
For great campaigns of peace the same, the wiry threads to weave;
We know not why or what, yet weave, forever weave.


To a Stranger

PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me,
I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has become not yours only, nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass—you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone,
I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

(Copyright information: Walt Whitman's writings are in the public domain, and may be reproduced freely, with attribution)

Answer 2

Aw, c'mon now. You can do a little bit of the work yourself. And you could have expressed some appreciation to the person who gave you "a great analysis" to begin with. Apparently neither you nor the other voters liked that analysis, so why should anyone want to take the time to give you another one. Your teacher is getting paid to teach you this; and you are getting the grade for a "great analysis." Surely you can find a few more examples of alliteration and assonance on your own. If not, forget it!