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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!
What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?)
Give me the drench of my passions! Give me life coarse and rank!
self myself from my companions?
songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins.
voice—approach, Touch me—touch the palm of your hand to my Body as I pass; Be not afraid of my Body.
SCENTED HERBAGE OF MY BREAST.
O blossoms of my blood!
WHAT THINK YOU I TAKE MY PEN IN HAND? WHAT think you I take my pen in hand to record?
MY LIKENESS! EARTH! my likeness!
THAT SHADOW, MY LIKENESS.
I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies—as I myself do;
WHO learns my lesson complete?
as every one is immortal; I know it is wonderful—but my eye-sight is equally wonderful, and how I was
And that my Soul embraces you this hour, and we affect each other without ever seeing each other, and
Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem; I whisper with my lips close to your
O lips of my soul, already becoming powerless! O ample and grand Presidentiads! New history!
(I must not venture—the ground under my feet men- aces menaces me—it will not support me;) O present!
it harm'd me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—As if it were not indispensable to my
AS I sit with others, at a great feast, suddenly, while the music is playing, To my mind, (whence it
if that were not the resumé; Of Histories—As if such, however complete, were not less complete than my
poems; As if the shreds, the records of nations, could possibly be as lasting as my poems; As if here
only out of the inimitable poem of the wo- man woman , can come the poems of man—(only thence have my
arrive, or pass'd on farther than those of the earth, I henceforth no more ignore them, than I ignore my
good as such-like, visible here or anywhere, stand provided for in a handful of space, which I extend my
arm and half enclose with my hand; That contains the start of each and all—the virtue, the germs of
WHAT am I, after all, but a child, pleased with the sound of my own name?
sake, Of departing—of the growth of a mightier race than any yet, Of myself, soon, perhaps, closing up my
My Days I sing, and the Lands—with interstice I knew of hapless War.
; Or rude in my home in Dakotah's woods, my diet meat, my drink from the spring; Or withdrawn to muse
place, with my own day, here.
My comrade!
my intrepid nations! O I at any rate include you all with perfect love!
steamers steaming through my poems!
to my bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.
My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach; With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds, and volumes
My ties and ballasts leave me—I travel—I sail—my elbows rest in the sea-gaps; I skirt the sierras—my
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the cannon touch'd; My captain lash'd fast with his own hands.
Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain,(says my grandmother's father;) We have
daughters, sons, preluding, The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being, Curious, here behold my
cycles, in their wide sweep, having brought me again, Amorous, mature—all beautiful to me—all wondrous; My
wondrous; Existing, I peer and penetrate still, Content with the present—content with the past, By my
I were nothing; From what I am determin'd to make illustrious, even if I stand sole among men; From my
The oath of the inseparableness of two together—of the woman that loves me, and whom I love more than my
warp and from the woof; (To talk to the perfect girl who understands me, To waft to her these from my
own lips—to effuse them from my own body;) From privacy—from frequent repinings alone; From plenty of
the right person not near; From the soft sliding of hands over me, and thrusting of fingers through my
beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough, To pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my
As I see my soul reflected in nature; As I see through a mist, one with inexpressible com- pleteness
For they do not conceal themselves, and cannot con- ceal conceal themselves. 9 O my Body!
likes of the Soul, (and that they are the Soul;) I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my
instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel; All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of my
greater heroes and bards, They refuse to awake at the touch of any man but me: It is I, you women—I make my
babes I beget upon you are to beget babes in their turn, I shall demand perfect men and women out of my
ME SPONTANEOUS me, Nature, The loving day, the mounting sun, the friend I am happy with, The arm of my
friend hanging idly over my shoulder, The hill-side whiten'd with blossoms of the mountain ash, The
press'd and glued together with love, Earth of chaste love—life that is only life after love, The body of my
and trembling encircling fingers—the young man all color'd, red, ashamed, angry; The souse upon me of my
greed that eats me day and night with hungry gnaw, till I saturate what shall produce boys to fill my
What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?)
(I bequeath them to you, my children, I tell them to you, for reasons, O bridegroom and bride.)
To rise thither with my inebriate Soul! To be lost, if it must be so!
Give me the drench of my passions! Give me life coarse and rank!
with the dancers, and drink with the drinkers; The echoes ring with our indecent calls; I take for my
love some prostitute—I pick out some low person for my dearest friend, He shall be lawless, rude, illiterate—he
shall be one condemn'd by others for deeds done; I will play a part no longer—Why should I exile my-
self myself from my companions?
ONCE I pass'd through a populous city, imprinting my brain, for future use, with its shows, architec-
over waves, towards the house of maternity, the land of migrations, look afar, Look off the shores of my
Deliriate, thus prelude what is generated, offering these, offering myself, Bathing myself, bathing my
songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins.
early in the morning, Walking forth from the bower, refresh'd with sleep; Behold me where I pass—hear my
voice—approach, Touch me—touch the palm of your hand to my Body as I pass; Be not afraid of my Body.
hitherto publish'd—from the pleasures, profits, conformities, Which too long I was offering to feed my
Soul; Clear to me, now, standards not yet publish'd—clear to me that my Soul, That the Soul of the man
substantial life, Bequeathing, hence, types of athletic love, Afternoon, this delicious Ninth-month, in my
first forty-first year, I proceed, for all who are, or have been, young men, To tell the secret of my
Scented Herbage of My Breast SCENTED HERBAGE OF MY BREAST.
SCENTED herbage of my breast, Leaves from you I yield, I write, to be perused best afterwards, Tomb-leaves
O blossoms of my blood!
grow up out of my breast! Spring away from the conceal'd heart there!
Do not remain down there so ashamed, herbage of my breast!
Who is he that would become my follower? Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections?
doned abandoned ; Therefore release me now, before troubling yourself any further—Let go your hand from my
it, Nor do those know me best who admire me, and vauntingly praise me, Nor will the candidates for my
love, (unless at most a very few,) prove victorious, Nor will my poems do good only—they will do just
and then in the silence, Alone I had thought—yet soon a silent troop gathers around me, Some walk by my
side, and some behind, and some embrace my arms or neck, They, the spirits of friends, dead or alive—thicker
lilac, with a branch of pine, Here out of my pocket, some moss which I pull'd off a live-oak in Florida
from the water by the pond-side, that I reserve, I will give of it—but only to them that love, as I my
Not Heaving From My Ribb'd Breast Only Not Heaving from my Ribb'd Breast only.
NOT heaving from my ribb'd breast only; Not in sighs at night, in rage, dissatisfied with myself; Not
in those long-drawn, ill-supprest sighs; Not in many an oath and promise broken; Not in my wilful and
savage soul's volition; Not in the subtle nourishment of the air; Not in this beating and pounding at my
O pulse of my life! Need I that you exist and show yourself, any more than in these songs.
knows, aught of them;) May-be seeming to me what they are, (as doubtless they indeed but seem,) as from my
from entirely changed points of view; —To me, these, and the like of these, are curiously answer'd by my
lovers, my dear friends; When he whom I love travels with me, or sits a long while holding me by the
appearances, or that of identity beyond the grave; But I walk or sit indifferent—I am satisfied, He ahold of my
I will take you down underneath this impassive exterior—I will tell you what to say of me; Publish my
name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover, The friend, the lover's portrait, of whom
WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol, still
it was not a happy night for me that fol- low follow'd ; And else, when I carous'd, or when my plans
ing undressing , bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my
all that day my food nourish'd me more—and the beautiful day pass'd well, And the next came with equal
joy—and with the next, at evening, came my friend; And that night, while all was still, I heard the
perfumes, nor the high, rain- emitting rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air, Any more than my
my blue veins leaving! O drops of me!
, from me falling—drip, bleeding drops, From wounds made to free you whence you were prison'd, From my
face—from my forehead and lips, From my breast—from within where I was conceal'd —press forth, red drops—confession
in the room where I eat or sleep, I should be satisfied; And if the corpse of any one I love, or if my
nor the bright win- dows windows , with goods in them; Nor to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my
your fre- quent frequent and swift flash of eyes offering me love, Offering response to my own—these
BEHOLD this swarthy face, this unrefined face—these gray eyes, This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my
neck, My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, with- out without charm; Yet comes one, a Manhattanese
leaves upon it, and twined around it a little moss, And brought it away—and I have placed it in sight in my
room; It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends, (For I believe lately I think of little
or a girl with me, I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has become not yours only, nor left my
body mine only, You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass—you take of my beard,
; And it seems to me if I could know those men, I should become attached to them, as I do to men in my
HERE the frailest leaves of me, and yet my strongest- lasting strongest-lasting : Here I shade down and
hide my thoughts—I do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems.
What Think You I Take My Pen in Hand? WHAT THINK YOU I TAKE MY PEN IN HAND?
WHAT think you I take my pen in hand to record?
My Likeness! EARTH! MY LIKENESS! EARTH! my likeness!
Then separate, as disembodied, or another born, Ethereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation;
I ascend—I float in the regions of your love, O man, O sharer of my roving life.
no unreturn'd love—the pay is certain, one way or another; (I loved a certain person ardently, and my
That Shadow, My Likeness THAT SHADOW, MY LIKENESS.
THAT shadow, my likeness, that goes to and fro, seek- ing seeking a livelihood, chattering, chaffering
it where it flits; How often I question and doubt whether that is really me; But in these, and among my
lovers, and carolling my songs, O I never doubt whether that is really me.
I meant that you should discover me so, by my faint indirections; And I, when I meet you, mean to discover
you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible; Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my
1 O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman! Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds!
change of the light and shade, I see distant lands, as real and near to the inhabitants of them, as my
see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, Do not weep for me, This is not my
race; I see the results of the perseverance and industry of my race; I see ranks, colors, barbarisms
F2 I have run through what any river or strait of the globe has run through; I have taken my stand on
Let me have my own way; Let others promulge the laws—I will make no account of the laws; Let others praise
I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies—as I myself do;
WHO learns my lesson complete?
as every one is immortal; I know it is wonderful—but my eye-sight is equally wonderful, and how I was
conceived in my mother's womb is equally wonderful; And pass'd from a babe, in the creeping trance of
And that my Soul embraces you this hour, and we affect each other without ever seeing each other, and