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  • 1871 366
Search : of captain, my captain!
Year : 1871

366 results

Leaves of Grass (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

MY LIKENESS! EARTH! my likeness!

heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, My heart gives you love.

Cluster: Inscriptions. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Bear forth to them, folded, my love —(Dear mariners!

for you I fold it here, in every leaf;) Speed on, my Book!

And so will some one, when I am dead and gone, write my life?

, I seek, for my own use, to trace out here.)

BEGINNING MY STUDIES.

Cluster: Children of Adam. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?)

songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins.

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.

all was still, ringing little bells last night under my ear.

Cluster: Calamus. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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.

Cluster: Leaves of Grass. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

all—aplomb in the midst of irrational things, Imbued as they—passive, receptive, silent as they, Finding my

woods, or of any farm-life of These States, or of the coast, or the lakes, or Kanada, Me, wherever my

As I Lay with my Head in your Lap, Camerado.

As I lay with my head in your lap, Camerado, The confession I made I resume—what I said to you and the

open air I resume: I know I am restless, and make others so; I know my words are weapons, full of danger

Cluster: The Answerer. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

NOW LIST TO MY MORNING'S ROMANZA. 1 Now list to my morning's romanza—I tell the signs of the Answerer

And I stand before the young man face to face, and take his right hand in my left hand, and his left

hand in my right hand, And I answer for his brother, and for men, and I an- swer answer for him that

landscape, people, animals, The profound earth and its attributes, and the unquiet ocean, (so tell I my

to the President at his levee, And he says, Good-day, my brother!

Cluster: Leaves of Grass. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

indifferent , but trembling with age and your unheal'd wounds, you mounted the scaffold;) —I would sing in my

know not why, but I loved you…(and so go forth little song, Far over sea speed like an arrow, carrying my

love, and drop these lines at his feet;) —Nor forget I to sing of the wonder, the ship as she swam up my

bay, Well-shaped and stately the Great Eastern swam up my bay, she was 600 feet long, Her, moving swiftly

Cluster: Leaves of Grass. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

My South! O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse, and love! Good and evil! O all dear to me!

the Tombigbee, the Santee, the Coosa, and the Sabine; O pensive, far away wandering, I return with my

the graceful palmetto; I pass rude sea-headlands and enter Pamlico Sound through an inlet, and dart my

Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain'd with iron, or my ankles with iron?

My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to

Cluster: Drum-Taps. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

O Manhattan, my own, my peerless! O strongest you in the hour of danger, in crisis!

VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night: When you, my son and my comrade, dropt at my side that day

O my soldiers twain! O my veterans, passing to burial!

heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, My heart gives you love.

WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long, And my head on the pillow rests

Cluster: Leaves of Grass. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Features of my equals, would you trick me with your creas'd and cadaverous march?

I saw the face of the most smear'd and slobbering idiot they had at the asylum; And I knew for my consolation

what they knew not; I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother, The same wait to clear the

pickets, Come here, she blushingly cries—Come nigh to me, lim-ber-hipp'dlimber-hipp'd man, Stand at my

upon you, Fill me with albescent honey, bend down to me, Rub to me with your chafing beard, rub to my

Cluster: Marches Now the War Is Over. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

What is this you bring my America? Is it uniform with my country?

I swear I will have each quality of my race in my- self myself , (Talk as you like, he only suits These

rapt verse, my call—mock me not!

my lands!

WEAVE IN, WEAVE IN, MY HARDY LIFE. WEAVE in! weave in, my hardy life!

Cluster: Leaves of Grass. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

the still woods I loved; I will not go now on the pastures to walk; I will not strip the clothes from my

body to meet my lover the sea; I will not touch my flesh to the earth, as to other flesh, to renew me

and meat; I do not see any of it upon you to-day—or perhaps I am deceiv'd; I will run a furrow with my

I WAS asking for something specific and perfect for my city, Whereupon, lo!

my city! The city of such women, I am mad to be with them!

Cluster: Bathed in War's Perfume. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Covering all my lands! all my sea-shores lining! Flag of death!

Ah my silvery beauty! ah my woolly white and crim- son crimson !

Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty! My sacred one, my mother.

, with bends and chutes; And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri; The

My limbs, my veins dilate; The blood of the world has fill'd me full—my theme is clear at last: —Banner

Cluster: Songs of Insurrection. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

my brother or my sister! Keep on!

I walk'd the shores of my Eastern Sea, Heard over the waves the little voice, Saw the divine infant,

maintain the be- queath'd bequeath'd cause, as for all lands, And I send these words to Paris with my

Cluster: Leaves of Grass. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem; I whisper with my lips close to your

O I have been dilatory and dumb; I should have made my way straight to you long ago; I should have blabb'd

paint myriads of heads, but paint no head with- out without its nimbus of gold-color'd light; From my

Cluster: Songs of Parting. (1871)

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

States awhile—but I cannot tell whither or how long; Perhaps soon, some day or night while I am singing, my

Open mouth of my Soul, uttering gladness, Eyes of my Soul, seeing perfection, Natural life of me, faithfully

To prepare for sleep, for bed—to look on my rose- color'd rose-color'd flesh; To be conscious of my body

How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around! How the clouds pass silently overhead!

I remember I said, before my leaves sprang at all, I would raise my voice jocund and strong, with reference

As I Ponder'd in Silence.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

AS I PONDER'D IN SILENCE. 1 AS I ponder'd in silence, Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering

then I answer'd, I too, haughty Shade, also sing war—and a longer and greater one than any, Waged in my

In Cabin'd Ships at Sea.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Bear forth to them, folded, my love —(Dear mariners!

for you I fold it here, in every leaf;) Speed on, my Book!

spread your white sails, my little bark, athwart the imperious waves!

To Foreign Lands.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

prove this puzzle, the New World, And to define America, her athletic Democracy; Therefore I send you my

When I Read the Book.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

And so will some one, when I am dead and gone, write my life?

(As if any man really knew aught of my life; Why, even I myself, I often think, know little or noth-

ing nothing of my real life; Only a few hints—a few diffused, faint clues and indi- rections indirections

, I seek, for my own use, to trace out here.)

Beginning My Studies.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Beginning My Studies. BEGINNING MY STUDIES.

BEGINNING my studies, the first step pleas'd me so much, The mere fact, consciousness—these forms—the

To Thee, Old Cause!

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

With yet unknown results to come, for thrice a thou- sand thousand years,) These recitatives for thee—my

Starting From Paumanok.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

miner in California; Or rude in my home in Dakota's woods, my diet meat, my drink from the spring; Or

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!

Unfolded Out of the Folds.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Unfolded only out of the inimitable poem of the wo- man woman can come the poems of man—(only thence have my

Walt Whitman.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

and gently turn'd over upon me, And parted my shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my

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 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

To the Garden, the World.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

From Pent-Up Aching Rivers.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

I Sing the Body Electric.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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 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

A Woman Waits for Me.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

It is I, you women—I make my way, I am stern, acrid, large, undissuadable—but I love you, I do not hurt

babes I beget upon you are to beget babes in their turn, I shall demand perfect men and women out of my

Spontaneous Me.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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 same, late

en- circling encircling fingers—the young man all color'd, red, ashamed, angry; The souse upon me of my

chastity of paternity, to match the great chastity of maternity, The oath of procreation I have sworn—my

greed that eats me day and night with hungry gnaw, till I saturate what shall produce boys to fill my

One Hour to Madness and Joy.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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!

Out of the Rolling Ocean, the Crowd.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

afterwards lose you. 2 (Now we have met, we have look'd, we are safe; Return in peace to the ocean, my

love; I too am part of that ocean, my love—we are not so much separated; Behold the great rondure—the

space—Know you, I salute the air, the ocean, and the land, Every day, at sundown, for your dear sake, my

Native Moments.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

one condemn'd by others for deeds done; I will play a part no longer—Why should I exile myself from my

Once I Pass'd Through a Populous City.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

ONCE I pass'd through a populous city, imprinting my brain, for future use, with its shows, architec-

Facing West From California's Shores.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

over waves, towards the house of maternity, the land of migrations, look afar, Look off the shores of my

Ages and Ages, Returning at Intervals.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Deliriate, thus prelude what is generated, offering these, offering myself, Bathing myself, bathing my

songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins.

As Adam, Early in the Morning.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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.

I Heard You, Solemn-Sweet Pipes of the Organ.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Italian tenor, singing at the opera —I heard the soprano in the midst of the quartet singing; …Heart of my

—you too I heard, murmuring low, through one of the wrists around my head; Heard the pulse of you, when

all was still, ringing little bells last night under my ear.

To Him That Was Crucified.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

MY spirit to yours, dear brother; Do not mind because many, sounding your name, do not understand you

I do not sound your name, but I understand you, (there are others also;) I specify you with joy, O my

divisions, jealousies, recriminations on every side, They close peremptorily upon us, to surround us, my

In Paths Untrodden.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

publish'd—from the pleasures, profits, eruditions, 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

forty-first year, I proceed, for all who are, or have been, young men, To tell the secret of my nights

Scented Herbage of My Breast.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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!

Whoever You Are, Holding Me Now in Hand.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Who is he that would become my follower? Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections?

don'd abandon'd ; Therefore release me now, before troubling yourself any further—Let go your hand from my

those know me best who admire me, and vaunt- ingly 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

These I, Singing in Spring.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

stopping now and then in the silence, Alone I had thought—yet soon a troop gathers around me, Some walk by my

side, and some behind, and some em- brace embrace my arms or neck, They, the spirits of dear friends

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.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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.

Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

knows, aught of them;) May-be seeming to me what they are, (as doubtless they indeed but seem,) as from my

changed points of view; —To me, these, and the like of these, are curiously an- swer'd 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

Recorders Ages Hence.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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'd 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

Not Heat Flames Up and Consumes.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

perfumes, nor the high, rain- emitting rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air, Any more than my

Trickle, Drops.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

City of Orgies.

  • Date: 1871
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

nor the bright win- dows windows , with goods in them; Nor to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my

your frequent and swift flash of eyes offering me love, Offering response to my own—these repay me; Lovers

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