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You know my motto: "Better than to stand to sit, better than to sit to lie, Better than to dream to sleep
My observations appear as footnotes.
That is not my goal; nor is it my goal to deal with, for example, the historical issues of Whitman’s,
Also, he is overly fond of O Captain! My Captain!
“O Captain! My Captain!” (Vol.
My Captain!”
My Soul !
'Ve clof'led with him .... the yards entangled ...• the cannon touched, 895 My captain lashed fast with
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, \Ve have not struck, he composedly cried
-I put my arms around them-touch my lips to them .
my Fancy."
I write to them more to my satisfaction, through my poems.
My book is my best letter, my response, my truest explanation of all.
As to my literary situation here, my rejection by the coteries-& my poverty, (which is the least of my
Ed my nurse gets my breakfast & gets it very well.
For my love for you is hardly less than my love for my natural parent.
My boy, ten years old, said to me this morning, "Have you got a book with a poem in it called '0 Captain
My Captain!' I want to 234 WHITMAN IN HIS OWN TIME learn it to speak at school."
my Captain!"
"Most of my readers ne glect my prose."
My Captain!
A line like "What think you I take my pen in hand to record?"
dear friends, my lovers.
my thoughts—I do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems.
What is yours is mine, my father . . .
my likeness!
My father, my uncle, my grand-uncle and the several aunts.
In the first he's the unthreaten ing, desexualized rhymster of "0 Captain! My Captain!"
We must of course have read "0 Captain! My Captain!" in school, and I must have hated it.
Moly and My Sad Captains. New York: Farrar, Straus, 1973. - - .
My Likeness!
Was Pete the muse for Whitman's most popular Lincoln tribute, the poem, "O Captain! My Captain!"?
While "O Captain!"
Like as not I would go to sleep—lay my head on my hands on the table.
I wish it given to him with my love."
Give my love to dear Mrs. and Mr.
My Captain!"
My Captain!
Captain, 0 my Cap tain" surely one ofthe most tender and beautiful poems in any language.6 The misquotation
I sing the songfmy wallpaper, my ceiling, my floor, my doors, my windows, my around-rooms, under- and
My Captain!
Oh my captain! called Whitman."
This is why I send you My leaping verses, my bounding verses, my spasmodic verses, My hysteria-attack
Hydraulic pump tearing out my guts and my feeling it!
My soul! .. . My ties and ballasts leave me ...
My Captain!," "Come up from the Fields, Father," and "The Singer in Prison."
Yours, my dear Mr.
It was the poem Whitman was "almost sorry [he] ever wrote," "0 Captain! My Captain!"
my work.
My Captain!"
11y Captain!"
Now he announces: "I am indifferent to my own songs" (l. 44); it is enough that he is to be with the
The five-line poem VI poses the question: "What think you I have taken my pen to record?"
My summary at the outset of this article delineates a coherent, frank, confident, and even ebullient
My Soul and I: The Inner Life of Walt Whitman (Boston: Beacon Press, 1985), p. 131.
On the boat I had my hands full. One poor fellow died going up."
the hospitals, Whitman dolefully observed: Looking from any eminence and studying the topography in my
"There comes that odious Walt Whitman to talk evil and unbelief to my boys," she wrote in a letter to
"I think I would rather see the evil one himself—at least if he had horns and hoofs—in my ward.
"He took a fancy to my fever boy, and would watch with him sometimes half the night.
My version of "Live Oak" differs from Parker's version in the Fourth Edition of The Norton Anthology
of American Literature (1994) , and Parker disapproves of my version, my title, and my interpretation
My essay first appeared in American Poetry Review months before The Continuing Presence came out, and
In any case, it's the later essay with my version of "Live Oak" that Parker rails against.
Parker is right in saying that I neglected to defend my choice, clearly a flaw in my essay.
My husband, John, has been as supportive in this as in all my ventures.
It includes the metered (atypical for Whit man) "0 Captain! My Captain!"
My Captain!" appears in the Sat urdayPress. 16 NOVEMBER.
After the lecture he is presented with a bouquet of lilacs and then reads "0 Captain! My Captain!"
My Captain," 70, Mask," 109 71, 54 "Out of May's Shows Se "O d e.- By Walter Whit lected,"161 "Out of
I took my agn?
My 146 Captain!"
my lands!
My Captain!"
My Captain!
I can't think of the author's name—my memory plays me such shabby tricks these days—(though I should
The overall need for a work such as this became clear to me in 1996 when I was asked by my friend and
To my surprise, I found no definitive published scholarship on which to draw except for studies that
My task has been to interest both groups while filling in, to the best of my ability, gaps that may exist
face is ash-color'd, my sinews gnarl . . . away from me people retreat.
I saw before me, sitting on the counter, a handsome, burly man, heavily built, and not looking, to my
me as more of a man, more of a democratic man, than the tallest of Whitman's roughs; to the eye of my
love had no bounds—all that my natural fastidiousness and cautious reserve kept from others I poured
Whitman might say to him "'od's my life, Saint Thomas, I am Snug the joiner & no lion, in this poem,
I, for my part, am no believer in the sacredness of the marriage ceremony, can imagine a perfect pure
When Whitman egged him to comment on “My Captain” (a poem Whitman himself several times ridiculed in
“O Captain! My Captain!”
Whitmanletsfly:“I’mhonestwhenIsay,damn‘MyCaptain’andallthe ‘My Captains’ in my book!
”thatturnedthepoetagainstit:“In some cases, as in Whitman’s ‘O Captain, My Captain,’ the high-water mark
My Captain!
"My Voice Goes After What My Eyes Cannot Reach": Pragmatic Language and the Making of a Democratic Mythology
My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and volumes
to balance them at last, My knowledge my live parts....it keeping tally with the meaning of things,
Come my children, Come my boys and girls, and my women and household and intimates, Now the performer
, Depriving me of my best as for a purpose, Unbuttoning my clothes and holding me by the bare waist,
I took my M.A. in 1947 and my Ph.D. in 1949, the year after Lucy took hers.
I want to conclude by describing my encounter with someone my wife and I met when we visited Whitman's
body to meet my lover the sea, I will not touch my flesh to the earth as to other flesh to renew me.
I am grateful to my colleague Jerome Loving for calling my attention to this essay by Allen, an early
I thank my friend and former colleague Kenneth Price, who directed this dissertation, for calling my
My Captain!”).
to my barestript heart, And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.
I am running on my nerve, I am running on my spinal cord!
my life.
My Captain!
I thank my daughter, Myrth Killingsworth, an ecocritic in her own right, for being my writing companion
On hikes in the Smoky Mountains, one of my regular companions was my friend and major professor F.
Professor Miller directed my dissertation, which ultimately led to my first book, Whitman's Poetry of
just as I was saying good-bye to DeWolfe Miller and my friends in Tennessee and heading west where my
bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.
mouth.—— I My eyes are bloodshot, they look down the river, A steamboat carries off paddles away my woman
beard, and reached till you held my feet."
Oh my free, proud, secure soul, where are you?"
'The moment my eyes fell on him I was content.'"
My only dread is lest my love should blind me, & my heart whisper "Tomorrow" when my reason says "Today
My Captain!”
The copy of “O Captain! My Captain!” is dated by WW as March 9, 1887, as is a Gutekunst photograph.
My February 1. From R. Brisbane. Syracuse. Captain!” LC. CT: WWWC 4: 266–67. April(?) 19.
McIlhaney, a Captain! My Captain!”
, My Captain!”
I make my way, / I am stern, acrid, large, undissuadable—but I love you, / I do not hurt you more than
edition of 500," he wrote to his friend William O'Connor, adding that "I could sell that number by my
My Captain!" and "When Lilacs Last in the Door-Yard Bloom'd."
And he found particular significance in the cover: "This is my design—I conceived it."
Body, set to them my name," followed by a blank space where Whitman added his signature in each copy
his life, he could still recall the excitement of seeing this first article in print: "How it made my
heart double-beat to see my piece on the pretty white paper, in nice type" ( , 1:287).
to the President in the midst of his cabinet, and Good day my brother, to Sambo, among the hoes of the
lesson complete" ("Who Learns My Lesson Complete"), "Clear the way there Jonathan" ("A Boston Ballad
Commenced putting to press for good, at the job printing office of my friends, the brothers Rome, in
My Captain!": O Builder! My Builder!
My Captain!" several times (see Mad issues for April 1959, September 1967, and March 1983).
The song's narrator claims "I'd give my left lung to be hers for one night" and "she breaks my heart
'Leaves of Grass,' my ass!"
My Robot Friend (2004). Walt Whitman.
at all my notions.
My crime.
All worlds are my worlds. All advances are my advances.
My Captain!”
My hands, my limbs grow nerveless, My brain feels rack’d, bewilder’d, Let the old timbers part, I will
dur- ing my absence.
I have lost my wits . . . .
I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease . . . . observing a spear of summer grass.
roof, my doors, my hearth and home How sweet again to see the light and thee!
gab and my loitering.”
trousers around my boots, and my cuffs back from my wrists, and go with drivers and boatmen and men
gab and my loitering.
to my barestript heart, And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet. (15)
to my bare-stript heart, And reach’d till you felt my beard, and reach’d till you held my feet.
You my rich blood!
Not my enemies ever invade me—no harm to my pride from them I fear; But the lovers I recklessly love—lo
me, ever open and helpless, bereft of my strength!
Because my enemies clarify my ego by antagonism, while the mastery of my lovers is indistinguishable
from my own recklessness?
My individuality is yours, my thirst yours, my appetites yours,mydifferencesyours.Iamalikeinmydifferences
whoexplainedthemysteriesoftheuniverse—because“Themost they offer for mankind and eternity [is] less than a spirt of my
“A sprit of my own seminal wet”: Spermatoid Design in Walt Whitman’s 1860 Leaves of Grass
withthelatestincrease.Iamto-day,(May31,1861,)justforty-twoyears old—for I write this introduction on my
To the best of my knowledge, pensive has not received any consideration in Whitman criticism, and yet
At the bottom of the recto of the first leaf we find this passage: My Lesson my Have you learned the
to my bare-stript heart, And reach’d till you felt my beard, and reach’d till you held my feet.
Part of my purpose in this coda to my exploration of the poet’s creative pro- cess is to take advantage
or “To the Leaven’d Soil they Trod,” Or “Captain! My Captain!”
Le Baron), mystical experience, 9, 36 165, 265n9 “Oh Captain! My Captain!”
friend, my lover, was coming, then o I was happy; each breath tasted sweeter—and all that day my food
The poet’s fluid movement between the singular “my friend, my lover” and the more indefinite “a friend
“I know my words are weapons, full of danger, full of death,” the poet declares in “as I lay with my
“Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass, / Be not afraid of my body,” says the naked
legs and his tongue was in my bellybutton. and then when he was tickling my fundament just behind the
First, I am grateful to my colleagues at Valparaiso University, who encouraged me throughout my work,
lack of the poet’s gift so acutely as when I turn to write of my family.
We closed with him . . . . the yards entangled . . . . the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with
(For 1863 and ’64, see my Memoranda fol- lowing)” (quoted in Myerson, 191).
regularly performed there, bya substitute, during my illness.
My thanks also go to my colleagues at the University of Freiburg for sharing their ideas and offering
Finally, my love and gratitude go to my father, Heinz Gerhardt, for sharing his fascination with other
gab and my loitering” (LG 77).
Ah my silvery beauty – ah my woolly white and crimson!” (“Delicate Cluster”).
O I cruise my old cruise again!
My fit is mastering me!”
I put on my coat and hat.”
And I kept writing my own poetry.
My brothers and my sisters of this New World, we remember that, as Whitman said, “I do not trouble my
“You know,” she said, “I didn’t know anything about him at that time.We had read ‘O Captain, My Captain
My Captain!” and then a review of Drum-Taps.
“O Captain! My Captain!”
In 1889, he told Traubel, “It’s My Captain again: always My Cap- tain: the school readers have got along
I will not strip the clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea, I will not touch my flesh to the
29, 75–76, 109–10, 159–61, 195; and My Captain!”
Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
to my barestript heart, And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.
Captain and all the My Captains in my book!
“I felt my life with both my hands” (Fr 357). 25.
, My Captain,” 18, Wittgenstein, Ludwig, 57, 95 233n29; “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry,” Wolosky, Shira, 30
My Captain!”; Whitman’s new poems in newspapers; and his essays on various topics.
My Captain!”
My Captain!” and unusual in his poetry in general.
My Captain!”
94–96; Worthington version of Leaves My Captain!
excellent companionship made my Kluge tenure one of the most generative times of my creative life.
reader, and my most fiery critic.
to my barestript heart, And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet. 142 Whitman
I had to give up my health for it—my body— the vitality of my physical self. . . . What did I get?
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans, passing to burial! 80 What I have I also give you.
Whitman’s famous rhymed dirge for Lincoln, “O Captain! My Captain!
my Captain!
My Captain!” An unsigned review in The Inde - pendent in 1865 mused that “O Captain!”
My Captain!,” and “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d.” 15.
My Captain!
There is something in my nature furtive like an old hen!
of my real life, Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirection I seek for my own use
I wish to see my benefactor, & have felt much like striking my tasks, & visiting New York to pay my respects
Among the pilots are some of my particular friends—when I see them up in the pilot house on my way to
, and exemplify it," was my candid response.
This book is dedicated to my husband, Larry, my love, my heartbeat, and my favorite dance partner. abbReviaTions
to my barestript heart, And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.
my colleagues.
to my barestript heart, And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.
to my barestript heart, And reached till you felt my beard, and reached till you held my feet.
Doyle recalled, "We were familiar at once—I put my hand on his knee—we understood . . .
soul the clear and unmistakable conviction to disobey all, and pursue my own way" (Whitman 281).
My Soul and I: The Inner Life of Walt Whitman . Boston: Beacon, 1985. Coffman, Stanley K., Jr.
body as I pass, / Be not afraid of my body."
He examined his own experience in My Days and Dreams (1890).
turning point in his own life, what he later termed "the very centre, circumference, umbilicus, of my
In the poem "To Thee Old Cause" he wrote, "My book and the war are one," and elsewhere he wrote that
pressing home . . . of all that could be said against that part (and a main part) in the construction of my
ever more complete or convincing, I could never hear the points better put—and then I felt down in my
soul the clear and unmistakable conviction to disobey all, and pursue my own way" (Whitman 281).