O Me! O Life!
Walt Whitman Written: 1892 • Published: 1892
This poem is in the public domain and may be freely reproduced.
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring, Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish, Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d, Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me, Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined, The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.That you are here—that life exists and identity, That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
Curator's Note
This poem's enduring resonance was beautifully captured in Dead Poets Society. Whitman's answer to existential doubt—that we are here, we exist, and we can contribute a verse—is both simple and profound. It's a reminder that meaning comes not from grand philosophical answers but from the act of living itself.
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