Andrew Marvell found the human soul within a drop of dew (here), but here Walt Whitman finds that a spider endlessly seeking to anchor itself with its silk evokes the soul’s yearning to connect itself to the universe. The second poem’s tribute to the elemental beauty of nature recalls Vachel Lindsay’s poem “Euclid” (here).
Walt Whitman
(1819–1892)
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.