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  • 1867 273
Search : of captain, my captain!
Year : 1867

273 results

Review of Drum-Taps and Sequel to Drum-Taps

  • Date: January 1867
  • Creator(s): Hill, A. S.
Text:

coffin that slowly passes, I give you my sprig of lilac.

John Townsend Trowbridge to Walt Whitman, 1 January 1867

  • Date: January 1, 1867
  • Creator(s): John Townsend Trowbridge
Text:

A happy New Year, my dear friend!—And here is a lot of luck for your new vol. of "Leaves."

Leaves of Grass (1867)

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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!

Cluster: Children of Adam. (1867)

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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.

Cluster: Calamus. (1867)

  • Date: 1867
  • 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. (1867)

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

Cluster: Leaves of Grass. (1867)

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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!

Cluster: Thoughts. (1867)

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

Cluster: Leaves of Grass. (1867)

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

Cluster: Leaves of Grass. (1867)

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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?

Cluster: Thoughts. (1867)

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

sake, Of departing—of the growth of a mightier race than any yet, Of myself, soon, perhaps, closing up my

Inscription

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

My Days I sing, and the Lands—with interstice I knew of hapless War.

Starting From Paumanok

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

; 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!

Walt Whitman

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

To the Garden, the World

  • Date: 1867
  • 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: 1867
  • 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: 1867
  • 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 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

A Woman Waits for Me

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

Spontaneous Me

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

One Hour to Madness and Joy

  • Date: 1867
  • 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!

Native Moments

  • Date: 1867
  • 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

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

  • Date: 1867
  • 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: 1867
  • 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: 1867
  • 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: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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.

In Paths Untrodden

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

  • Date: 1867
  • 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: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

These I, Singing in Spring

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

  • Date: 1867
  • 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.

Among the Multitude

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

I meant that you should discover me so, by my faint indirections; And I, when I meet you, mean to discover

Full of Life, Now

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible; Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my

Salut Au Monde!

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

Leaves of Grass 2

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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;

Leaves of Grass 3

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

Leaves of Grass 4

  • Date: 1867
  • 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

Song of the Broad-Axe

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

untrodden and mouldy—I see no longer any axe upon it; I see the mighty and friendly emblem of the power of my

I do not vaunt my love for you; I have what I have. The axe leaps!

With Antecedents

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

WITH antecedents; With my fathers and mothers, and the accumulations of past ages; With all which, had

In the name of These States, and in your and my name, the Past, And in the name of These States, and

in your and my name, the Present time.

Savantism

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Thither every-day life, speech, utensils, politics, per- sons persons , estates; Thither we also, I with my

Crossing Brooklyn Ferry

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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!

To a Foil'd Revolter or Revoltress

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

my brother or my sister! Keep on!

To a Common Prostitute

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

I exclude you; Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you, do my

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

To Rich Givers

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

cheerfully accept, A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money— these, as I rendezvous with my

A Word Out of the Sea

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Loud I call to you, my love!

who I am, my love.

Hither, my love! Here I am! Here!

But my love no more, no more with me!

O what is my destination?

A Leaf of Faces

  • Date: 1867
  • 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

To the Sayers of Words

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Air, soil, water, fire—these are words; I myself am a word with them—my qualities inter- penetrate interpenetrate

with theirs—my name is nothing to them; Though it were told in the three thousand languages, what would

air, soil, water, fire, know of my name?

When I undertake to tell the best, I find I cannot, My tongue is ineffectual on its pivots, My breath

Longings for Home

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

O dear to me my birth-things—All moving things, and the trees where I was born—the grains, plants, rivers

; Dear to me my own slow sluggish rivers where they flow, distant, over flats of silvery sands, or through

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 Imperturbe

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

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

Sleep-Chasings

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Sleep-Chasings SLEEP-CHASINGS. 1 I WANDER all night in my vision, Stepping with light feet, swiftly and

Receive me and my lover too—he will not let me go without him.

my clothes were stolen while I was abed, Now I am thrust forth, where shall I run?

carefully darn my grandson's stockings.

How he informs against my brother and sister, and takes pay for their blood!

Elemental Drifts

  • Date: 1867
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

- ward southward , Alone, held by this eternal self of me, out of the pride of which I have utter'd my

Fascinated, my eyes, reverting from the south, drop't, to follow those slender winrows, Chaff, straw,

I take what is underfoot; What is yours is mine, my father.

I throw myself upon your breast, my father, I cling to you so that you cannot unloose me, I hold you

from my dead lips the ooze exuding at last! See—the prismatic colors, glistening and rolling!)

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