A Noiseless Patient Spider, by Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman in 1887

In A Noiseless Patient Spider, a poem published in 1867 as part of Walt Whitman's masterpiece Leaves of Grass, the poet discovers that a spider has something to teach him.

In the first stanza, the poet observes the spider. The spider is isolated, standing on a promontory, a little piece of rock jutting out into the air, the space surrounding it "vacant" and "vast." Poor spider, so tiny and alone in the big universe!

It sends filaments, silky threads that it uses to build its web, out into the vast, vacant space around it. The spider is all alone, and there seems to be nothing around it, yet it keeps on trying to make contact with something outside of itself. This isn't easy; the space is so vast. Yet the spider keeps on trying. It is "patient." It is "noiseless" - it doesn't protest or complain about the difficulty of its task. It doesn't get tired. It just keeps on sending "filament, filament, filament" out into the world.