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captain!
Leave you not the little spot Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
O captain, my captain, rise up and hear the bells; Rise up, for you the flag is flung, for you the bugle
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm—he has no pulse
But I, with silent tread Walk the spot my captain lies We have quoted enough, we think, even in these
WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOORYARD BLOOM'D . . . 255 O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN . . . . . . . . 262 HUSH'D BE
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! O CAPTAIN! my Captain!
O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!
my Captain!
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse
WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOORYARD BLOOM'D . . . 255 O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN . . . . . . . . 262 HUSH'D BE
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! O CAPTAIN! my Captain!
O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!
my Captain!
or "To the Leaven'd Soil they Trod," Or "Captain! My Captain!"
Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain,(says my grandmother's father;) We have
my Captain!
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! 1 O CAPTAIN! my captain!
Leave you not the little spot, Where on the deck my captain lies.
Fallen cold and dead. 2 O captain! my captain!
whom we knew not before Then the great authors take him for an author And the great soldiers for a captain
O laugh when my eyes settle the land The imagery and phrasing of these lines bears some resemblance to
and dwells serenely behind it.— When out of a feast I eat bread only corn and roast potatoes fo for my
dinner, through my own voluntary choice it is very well and I much content, but if some arrogant head
inspiration . . . . the beating of my heart . . . . the passing of blood and air through my lungs.
We closed with him, the yards entangled, the can- non cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with his
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
Only three guns were in use, One was directed by the captain himself against the enemy's main-mast, Two
Serene stood the little captain, He was not hurried, his voice was neither high nor low, His eyes gave
riddled and slowly sinking, prepara- tions preparations to pass to the one we had conquered, The captain
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the can- non cannon touch'd; My captain lash'd fast with his own
Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cries
Only three guns are in use; One is directed by the captain himself against the ene- my's enemy's main-mast
Serene stands the little captain; He is not hurried—his voice is neither high nor low; His eyes give
The black ship, mail'd with iron, her mighty guns in her turrets—but the pluck of the captain and engineers
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with his own hands.
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
Only three guns were in use, One was directed by the captain himself against the enemy's main-mast, Two
Serene stood the little captain, He was not hurried—his voice was neither high nor low, His eyes gave
Then the mechanics take him for a mechanic, And the soldiers suppose him to be a captain, and the sailors
walks home late at night, or as I lay in my bed, they came upon me.
, That I was, I knew was of my body, and what I should be, I knew I should be of my body.
Manhatta, my river and sun-set, and my scallop-edged waves of flood-tide, the sea-gulls oscillating
face, Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you.
loudly and mu- sically musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my
walks home late at night, or as I lay in my bed, they came upon me.
, That I was, I knew was of my body—and what I should be, I knew I should be of my body.
Manhatta , My river and sun-set, and my scallop-edged waves of flood-tide, The sea-gulls oscillating
loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
walks home late at night, or as I lay in my bed, they came upon me.
; That I was, I knew was of my body—and what I should be, I knew I should be of my body. 7 It is not
mast- hemm'd mast-hemm'd Manhattan, My river and sun-set, and my scallop-edg'd waves of flood-tide,
face, Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you.
loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
walks home late at night, or as I lay in my bed, they came upon me.
; That I was, I knew was of my body—and what I should be, I knew I should be of my body.
, My river and sun-set, and my scallop-edg'd waves of flood-tide, The sea-gulls oscillating their bodies
face, Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you.
loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
than you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my
forever held in solution, I too had receiv'd identity by my body, That I was I knew was of my body,
What is more subtle than this which ties me to the woman or man that looks in my face?
Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you? We understand then do we not?
loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
than you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my
forever held in solution, I too had receiv'd identity by my body, That I was I knew was of my body,
What is more subtle than this which ties me to the woman or man that looks in my face?
Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you? We understand then do we not?
loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
Poem in the 1856 edition of Leaves of Grass: "The best I had done seemed to me blank and suspicious, / My
The lines "I am too great to be a mere President or Major General / I remain with my fellows—with mechanics
fool and the wise thinker" may be related to a similar phrase in the poem eventually titled Who Learns My
I say to my own greatness, Away!
outward" (1855, p. 51). may be related to a similar phrase in the poem eventually titled "Who Learns My
in the 1856 edition of Leaves of Grass : "The best I had done seemed to me blank and suspicious, / My
—I doubt whether who my greatest thoughts, as I had supposed them, are not shallow.
—My pride is impotent; my love gets no response.
of the poem (not including this line) were revised and published in The American in October 1880 as My
"In the year 80 of the States, My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air, Born
"Take my leaves, America! take them South, and take them North! Surround them, East and West!
"O my comrade! O you and me at last, and us two only! O to level occupations and the sexes!
If he worships any particular thing, he says it shall be "some of the spread of my own body."
One long passage commences thus: "O my body!
to the President at his levee, / And he says Good day my brother, to Cudge that hoes in the sugarfield
of the poem (not including this line) were revised and published in The American in October 1880 as "My