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Faces (Poem by Walter Whitman)

Walt Whitman’s multisection poem Faces stands as one of his most expansive explorations of individuality, humanity, and the spiritual dimension ...
Walter Whitman Poem

Faces (1)
By Walter Whitman

Sauntering the pavement or riding the country by-road, faces!
Faces of friendship, precision, caution, suavity, ideality,
The spiritual-prescient face, the always welcome common benevolent face,
The face of the singing of music, the grand faces of natural lawyers and judges broad at the back-top,
The faces of hunters and fishers bulged at the brows, the shaved blanch’d faces of orthodox citizens,
The pure, extravagant, yearning, questioning artist’s face,
The ugly face of some beautiful soul, the handsome detested or despised face,
The sacred faces of infants, the illuminated face of the mother of many children,
The face of an amour, the face of veneration,
The face as of a dream, the face of an immobile rock,
The face withdrawn of its good and bad, a castrated face,
A wild hawk, his wings clipp’d by the clipper,
A stallion that yielded at last to the thongs and knife of the gelder.

Sauntering the pavement thus, or crossing the ceaseless ferry, faces and faces and faces,
I see them and complain not, and am content with all.

Faces (2)

Do you suppose I could be content with all if I thought them their own finale?

This now is too lamentable a face for a man,
Some abject louse asking leave to be, cringing for it,
Some milk-nosed maggot blessing what lets it wrig to its hole.

This face is a dog’s snout sniffing for garbage,
Snakes nest in that mouth, I hear the sibilant threat.

This face is a haze more chill than the arctic sea,
Its sleepy and wobbling icebergs crunch as they go.

This is a face of bitter herbs, this an emetic, they need no label,
And more of the drug-shelf, laudanum, caoutchouc, or hog’s-lard.

This face is an epilepsy, its wordless tongue gives out the unearthly cry,
Its veins down the neck distend, its eyes roll till they show nothing but their whites,
Its teeth grit, the palms of the hands are cut by the turn’d-in nails,
The man falls struggling and foaming to the ground, while he speculates well.

This face is bitten by vermin and worms,
And this is some murderer’s knife with a half-pull’d scabbard.

This face owes to the sexton his dismalest fee,
An unceasing death-bell tolls there.

Faces (3)

Features of my equals would you trick me with your creas’d and cadaverous march?
Well, you cannot trick me.

I see your rounded never-erased flow,
I see ’neath the rims of your haggard and mean disguises.

Splay and twist as you like, poke with the tangling fores of fishes or rats,
You’ll be unmuzzled, you certainly will.

I saw the face of the most smear’d and slobbering idiot they had at the asylum,
And I knew for my consolation what they knew not,
I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother,
The same wait to clear the rubbish from the fallen tenement,
And I shall look again in a score or two of ages,
And I shall meet the real landlord perfect and unharm’d, every inch as good as myself.

Faces (4)

The Lord advances, and yet advances,
Always the shadow in front, always the reach’d hand bringing up the laggards.

Out of this face emerge banners and horses — O superb! I see what is coming,
I see the high pioneer-caps, see staves of runners clearing the way,
I hear victorious drums.

This face is a life-boat,
This is the face commanding and bearded, it asks no odds of the rest,
This face is flavor’d fruit ready for eating,
This face of a healthy honest boy is the programme of all good.

These faces bear testimony slumbering or awake,
They show their descent from the Master himself.

Off the word I have spoken I except not one — red, white, black, are all deific,
In each house is the ovum, it comes forth after a thousand years.

Spots or cracks at the windows do not disturb me,
Tall and sufficient stand behind and make signs to me,
I read the promise and patiently wait.

This is a full-grown lily’s face,
She speaks to the limber-hipp’d man near the garden pickets,
Come here she blushingly cries, Come nigh to me limber-hipp’d man,
Stand at my side till I lean as high as I can upon you,
Fill me with albescent honey, bend down to me,
Rub to me with your chafing beard, rub to my breast and shoulders.

Faces (5)

The old face of the mother of many children,
Whist! I am fully content.

Lull’d and late is the smoke of the First-day morning,
It hangs low over the rows of trees by the fences,
It hangs thin by the sassafras and wild-cherry and cat-brier under them.

I saw the rich ladies in full dress at the soiree,
I heard what the singers were singing so long,
Heard who sprang in crimson youth from the white froth and the water-blue.

Behold a woman!
She looks out from her quaker cap, her face is clearer and more beautiful than the sky.

She sits in an armchair under the shaded porch of the farmhouse,
The sun just shines on her old white head.

Her ample gown is of cream-hued linen,
Her grandsons raised the flax, and her grand-daughters spun it with the distaff and the wheel.

The melodious character of the earth,
The finish beyond which philosophy cannot go and does not wish to go,
The justified mother of men.

Poem Analysis:

Walt Whitman’s multisection poem Faces stands as one of his most expansive explorations of individuality, humanity, and the spiritual dimension underlying human appearance. Spread across five distinct yet interwoven sections, the poem transforms the human face into a symbolic gateway through which Whitman perceives identity, suffering, aspiration, and divine promise. In typical Whitmanian fashion, the poem attempts nothing less than a panoramic catalogue of human experience — physical, moral, psychological, and cosmic.

Although Faces is seldom singled out as one of Whitman’s most anthologized pieces, it functions as a concentrated statement of themes central to Leaves of Grass: the universality of human worth, the recognition of a divine spark within all, and the poet’s role as interpreter of both surface and soul. The sheer variety of faces invoked — beautiful, grotesque, infantile, aged, violent, transcendent — makes the poem a sweeping meditation on the human condition.

Faces (1): The Democratic Theatre of Humanity

The poem opens with the poet moving through ordinary public spaces: “Sauntering the pavement or riding the country by-road…” This serves as a democratic stage upon which an endless succession of human faces appears. Whitman celebrates this multiplicity not as a burden but as a source of pleasure and insight.

The faces themselves form a vivid catalogue. Whitman lists them not as static portraits but as embodiments of professions, temperaments, or states of the soul:

  • faces of friendship, … ideality,
  • faces of hunters and fishers,
  • the pure, extravagant, yearning, questioning artist’s face,
  • the ugly face of some beautiful soul,
  • the sacred faces of infants.

This first section affirms Whitman’s inclusive rhetoric. Every face — beautiful or despised, noble or mundane — contains an expressive truth. His democratic vision refuses exclusion; the poem’s abundance is itself an argument for universal sympathy. By ending with “I see them and complain not, and am content with all,” Whitman presents acceptance as both an aesthetic and moral stance.

Faces (2): The Confrontation with Suffering and Corruption

After the generous vision of the first section, the second introduces a stark counterpoint. The poet asks: “Do you suppose I could be content with all if I thought them their own finale?” This marks a crucial philosophical shift. Whitman sees ugliness, degradation, and violence, but refuses to believe such conditions represent a soul’s ultimate state.

He describes faces of:

  • moral degradation (“Some abject louse asking leave to be”),
  • predatory malice (“This face is a dog’s snout sniffing for garbage”),
  • internal chaos (“a haze more chill than the arctic sea”),
  • physical suffering (“This face is an epilepsy”),
  • corruption and death.

These images are deliberately shocking, reminiscent of Whitman’s Civil War writings. They expose the body’s vulnerability and the world’s capacity for cruelty. Yet the poet’s underlying assertion remains anchored in hope: such faces cannot be final. The horror is temporary, not existential. Whitman’s belief in spiritual progression prevents despair from having the last word.

Faces (3): The Vision Beyond the Mask

Section 3 brings reassurance and metaphysical clarity. The poet declares that no face, however distorted, can conceal its true essence:

“You’ll be unmuzzled, you certainly will.”

Whitman perceives deeper continuity beneath temporary suffering. The “features of my equals” cannot deceive him, for he recognizes the “rounded never-erased flow” of a soul’s ultimate identity beneath all outward distortion. The face becomes a temporary mask, and spiritual evolution the permanent truth.

The example of the “slobbering idiot” in the asylum underscores this idea. Whitman sees not merely a damaged mind but a soul in transition:

“I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother… 

And I shall look again in a score or two of ages…

I shall meet the real landlord perfect and unharm’d.”

This is Whitman’s doctrine of regeneration—souls broken by circumstance will eventually be restored. The poem, therefore, merges human empathy with a quasi-mystical vision of eventual renewal.

Faces (4): The Divine and Heroic Dimension

The fourth section expands the poem’s scope to cosmic and heroic imagery. The “Lord” advancing evokes a spiritual procession, representing divine power working through human evolution. The poem’s vision suddenly becomes eschatological: “I see what is coming”—drums, banners, pioneers. These faces signify progress, courage, fruitfulness, and spiritual authority.

Whitman associates certain faces with:

  • leadership (“commanding and bearded”),
  • bodily health and youth,
  • love and sensual delight,
  • divine ancestry (“They show their descent from the Master himself.”)

In one of the most striking lines, he affirms universal divinity:

“Red, white, black, are all deific.”

This reinforces Whitman’s radical equality and his belief that every race carries sacred potential.

The transition into sensual imagery — the lily’s face calling the “limber-hipp’d man” — reintroduces Whitman’s characteristic celebration of bodily love. Here, the human face becomes a site of desire, fertility, and erotic vitality.

Faces (5): The Culmination in the Universal Mother

The poem concludes with a return to simplicity and domestic repose. After cosmic visions and spiritual declarations, Whitman presents the “old face of the mother of many children.” This maternal figure becomes the poem’s final emblem of completeness and fulfillment.

Her appearance evokes serenity, industry, and continuity:

  • her gown is made of flax raised and spun by her descendants,
  • she sits quietly beneath morning sunlight,
  • her face is “clearer and more beautiful than the sky.”

Whitman elevates her to a symbol of humanity’s origin and justification:

“The melodious character of the earth…

The justified mother of men.”

This final portrayal fuses the physical with the divine. The face of the mother becomes the poem’s ultimate statement about human dignity: the earth itself becomes feminine, nurturing, and morally authoritative.

Whitman’s Universal Vision of the Human Face

Across the five sections of Faces, Whitman moves from democratic observation to spiritual insight, from exposure to human suffering to celebration of human divinity. The poem affirms that:

  • every face carries meaning,
  • no face is wholly defined by its suffering or corruption,
  • each face contains an indestructible spiritual identity,
  • humanity’s faces collectively testify to divine origin and future fulfillment.

By presenting both the grotesque and the sublime, Whitman avoids sentimentalism. Instead, he embeds his radical optimism within a clear-eyed recognition of human imperfection. The poem becomes an affirmation of faith not in institutions or doctrines but in the unfolding potential of the human soul. Through this expansive catalogue, Whitman asserts that every face—no matter how damaged, ordinary, or exalted—shines with the promise of ultimate renewal, equality, and spiritual significance.

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