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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
The deeplyfeltemotionwith which "My Captain" is readinvariablybringstears ttheeyes ofhearers.] 14 MEMORIES
, My Captain," a of "Bravo, " (encouraged by gentle-kindly ejaculation bravo !
he " I do then with friends as I do your says, my with my books.
My lifend my wealth,yea, allthatismine, be ransom againstTime's wrong forthose who showed true my forecast
Not that tinkling rhymes Captain my Captain this, too, isnot beautiful and pathetic ; but it jars slightly
Oh Captain, Weave in My Hardy Life and We Two Together have been set to music by Edgar Stillman Kelley
In stanza three the last three lines once read, "But I with silenttread Walk the spot my Captain lies
Must I pass from my song for thee, From my gaze on thee inthe west?" etc.
Answerer) 134 1856 Now Precedent Songs Farewell 403 1888 O Captain, My Captain 262 1865 Offerings 218
J., I give to my friend,Peter Doyle, my silverwatch. I give to H.
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!”
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!
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!”
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!”
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!
of power in my left."
Davis to my wife.
My friends do not realize my condition.
My supper is my main meal now.
He enquired what my programme was for the rest of my jaunt.
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!
Was born May 31, 1819, in my father'sfarm-house, atWest Hills,L. I., sailor— on my New York State.
My parents' folks mostly farmers and father'sside, of English — on my mother's,.
hands,my limbsgrow nerveless, My brainfeelrack'd,bewilder'd.
It was for this and for no lesserreason that he was, able to hail Lincoln as "My Captain."
In the " presence of calamity he sobs, as a child, Oh my Captain my Father !"
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!
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.
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!
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!”).
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!
He asked me somewhat about my life and doings at home.
My memories of Walt Whitman include many talks, in which I did my best to obtain light upon these and
I receive now again of my many translations,from my avataras ascending, while others doubtless await
(p.66.) " Camerado, I giveyou my hand, I give you my love more precious than money."
For my enemy is dead,a man divineas myself isdead.
Gilchrist,and the intimacy which my brother,my friend Mr.
"My great anxiety about my wife lastsstill.
"My Dear Mrs.
"My Dear Mrs.
My Dear Mrs.
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 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."
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!
During my em- MR.
My Captain.
MY DEAR MR.
So go in, my lad.
MY DEAR MR.
I took my agn?
My 146 Captain!"
my lands!
My Captain!"
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.
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
I spend my evenings altogether at the hospitals— my days often.
He is of my own party; and my politicshave been from my youth essentiallythe same ashis own.
Who 1,arns my Lesson complete.
My hands, my limbs grow nerveless.
The lecture closed with the recitation by the author of his grandly pathetic ' lament, O Captain, my
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!"
benefactor, and have felt much like and New striking my tasks, visiting York to pay you my respects.
charity has no death— my wisdom diesnot,neither earlynor late, And my sweet love bequeathed here and
For my own part, I may confess that itshone upon me when lifewas when I was my broken, weak, sickly,
should be of my body.
my poems.
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
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!”
" thatwould Who is he become my follower?
What I and be asregardless experi ence or shall go from my composition with portray out a shred of my
I heard low one my you,too, murmuring through ofthe wristsaround my head, Heard the pulseof you,when
"He you who spreads a wider breast than own the my proves width of my own.
"BefIrwas born out of my mother, generations guided me, My embryo has never been torpid nothing
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."
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
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.
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.”
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!
(This broad view of editing is one I endorse and underpins my remarks throughout this essay.)
In my view, specialists are less critical in transcription than in project conceptualization, annotation
after his claim to be "untranslatable": "I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, / I sound my
overstaid fraction" "the circle of obis" or, as Whitman says near the end of "Song of Myself": "I effuse my
Jeopardizes Degree by Refusing to Perform Whitman," The Chronicle of Higher Education 25 July 2013. 23 My
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
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