A Noiseless Patient Spider, wrote Whitman

Whitman’s 19th century poem reads like this: 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, […]