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by the indolent waves, I am exposed, cut by bitter and poisoned hail Steeped amid honeyed morphine , my
darkness Our vessel riddled and slowly sinking—preparations to pass to the one we had conquered— The captain
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
as two—as my soul and I; and I gu reckon it is the same with all oth men and women.— I know that my
trousers around my boots, and my cuffs back from my wrists and go among the rough drivers and boatmen
I tell you just as beautiful to die; For I take my death with the dying And my birth with the new-born
lips, to the palms of my hands, and whatever my hands hold.
hands, and my head my head mocked with a prickly I am here after I remember crucifixion and bloody coronation
/ Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sun-light expands my blood?
/ Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
blood—that if I walk with an arm of theirs around my neck, my soul leaps and laughs like a new-waked
—(Am I loved by them boundlessly because my love for them is more boundless?
truth, my sympathy, and my dignity.
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings, and give them shape!
Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me, the sun-light expands my blood!
Why, when they leave me, do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well. Allons! be not detain'd!
I give you my hand!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sunlight expands my blood?
Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well—be not detain'd!
Camerado, I give you my hand!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sunlight expands my blood?
Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well—be not detain'd!
Camerado, I give you my hand!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sun-light expands my blood?
Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well. Allons! be not detained!
I give you my hand!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me, the sun-light expands my blood?
Why, when they leave me, do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well. Allons! Be not detained!
I give you my hand!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
Why, when they leave me, do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
My call is the call of battle—I nourish active re- bellion rebellion ?
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well. Allons! Be not detain'd!
I give you my hand!
4 To me I subject all the teachings of the schools, and all dicta and authority, to my the tests of myself
And myself,—and I encourage you to subject the same to the tests of yourself—and to subject me and my
first several lines of that poem (not including the line in question) were revised and published as My
first poem of the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass , later called "Song of Myself": "I do not trouble my
The first several lines of the notebook (not including this line) were revised and published as "My Picture-Gallery
just granting his request, with great commiseration, when an old lady from the gallery cries out "O my