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Search : of captain, my captain!

8122 results

To a Certain Civilian.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

therefore leave my works, And go lull yourself with what you can understand, and with piano- tunes piano-tunes

Spirit Whose Work Is Done.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Ere departing fade from my eyes your forests of bayonets; Spirit of gloomiest fears and doubts, (yet

steps keep time; Spirit of hours I knew, all hectic red one day, but pale as death next day, Touch my

mouth ere you depart, press my lips close, Leave me your pulses of rage—bequeath them to me—fill me

with currents convulsive, Let them scorch and blister out of my chants when you are gone, Let them identify

To the Leaven'd Soil They Trod.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

TO the leaven'd soil they trod calling I sing for the last, (Forth from my tent emerging for good, loosing

vistas beyond, to the South and the North, To the leaven'd soil of the general Western world to attest my

Northern ice and rain that began me nourish me to the end, But the hot sun of the South is to fully ripen my

When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?

O wild and loose to my soul—O wondrous singer!

voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird.

While my sight that was bound in my eyes unclosed, As to long panoramas of visions.

I cease from my song for thee, From my gaze on thee in the west, fronting the west, communing with thee

O Captain! My Captain!

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

O Captain! My Captain! 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

But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

By Blue Ontario's Shore.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

make the only growth by which I can be appreciated, I reject none, accept all, then reproduce all in my

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

Will it absorb into me as I absorb food, air, to appear again in my strength, gait, face?

rapt verse, my call, mock me not!

You by my charm I invoke.

As Consequent, Etc.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

In you whoe'er you are my book perusing, In I myself, in all the world, these currents flowing, All,

the West joyously sounding, Your tidings old, yet ever new and untranslatable, Infinitesimals out of my

life, and many a life, (For not my life and years alone I give—all, all I give,) These waifs from the

The Return of the Heroes.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

O earth that hast no voice, confide to me a voice, O harvest of my lands—O boundless summer growths,

you dread accruing army, O you regiments so piteous, with your mortal diarrhoea, with your fever, O my

Nor do I forget you Departed, Nor in winter or summer my lost ones, But most in the open air as now when

my soul is rapt and at peace, like pleasing phantoms, Your memories rising glide silently by me. 6 I

All till'd and untill'd fields expand before me, I see the true arenas of my race, or first or last,

The City Dead-House.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

BY the city dead-house by the gate, As idly sauntering wending my way from the clangor, I curious pause

Fair, fearful wreck—tenement of a soul—itself a soul, Unclaim'd, avoided house—take one breath from my

This Compost.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • 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.

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

I will press my spade through the sod and turn it up underneath, I am sure I shall expose some of the

transparent green-wash of the sea which is so amorous after me, That it is safe to allow it to lick my

To a Foil'd European Revolutionaire.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

COURAGE yet, my brother or my sister!

Unnamed Lands.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

that was not the end of those nations or any person of them, any more than this shall be the end of my

Outlines for a Tomb.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

walk'dst thy years in barter, 'mid the haunts of brokers, Nor heroism thine, nor war, nor glory. 2 Silent, my

trod, by you Patapsco, You Hudson, you endless Mississippi—nor you alone, But to the high seas launch, my

Out From Behind This Mask.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

the road or at some crevice door by chance, or open'd win- dow window , Pausing, inclining, baring my

To Him That Was Crucified.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

MY spirit to yours dear brother, Do not mind because many sounding your name do not under- stand understand

you, I do not sound your name, but I understand you, I specify you with joy O my comrade to salute you

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

You Felons on Trial in Courts.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

To a Common Prostitute.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

do 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

Miracles.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight

Gods.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

LOVER divine and perfect Comrade, Waiting content, invisible yet, but certain, Be thou my God.

Ideal Man, Fair, able, beautiful, content, and loving, Complete in body and dilate in spirit, Be thou my

O Death, (for Life has served its turn,) Opener and usher to the heavenly mansion, Be thou my God.

All great ideas, the races' aspirations, All heroisms, deeds of rapt enthusiasts, Be ye my Gods.

and wondrous, Or some fair shape I viewing, worship, Or lustrous orb of sun or star by night, Be ye my

Germs.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • 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 containing the start of each and all, the virtue, the germs

To Rich Givers.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

cheerfully accept, A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money, as I rendez- vous rendezvous with my

The Dalliance of the Eagles.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance

Thought.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • 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

First O Songs for a Prelude.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

FIRST O songs for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch'd tympanum pride and joy in my city, How she

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

Forty years had I in my city seen soldiers parading, Forty years as a pageant, till unawares the lady

Song of the Banner at Daybreak.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Nothing my babe you see in the sky, And nothing at all to you it says—but look you my babe, Look at these

now the hal- yards halyards have rais'd it, Side of my banner broad and blue, side of my starry banner

Eastern shore, and my Western shore the same, And all between those shores, and my ever running Mississippi

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

My limbs, my veins dilate, my theme is clear at last, Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing

Rise O Days From Your Fathomless Deeps.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

FATHOMLESS DEEPS. 1 RISE O days from your fathomless deeps, till you loftier, fiercer sweep, Long for my

O wild as my heart, and powerful!)

you have done me good, My soul prepared in the mountains absorbs your immortal strong nutriment, Long

had I walk'd my cities, my country roads through farms, only half satisfied, One doubt nauseous undulating

like a snake, crawl'd on the ground before me, Continually preceding my steps, turning upon me oft,

Virginia—the West.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

voice speaking, As to you Rebellious, (I seemed to hear her say,) why strive against me, and why seek my

City of Ships.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

yours—yet peace no more, In peace I chanted peace, but now the drum of war is mine, War, red war is my

The Centenarian's Story.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Why do you tremble and clutch my hand so convulsively?

Aye, this is the ground, My blind eyes even as I speak behold it re-peopled from graves, The years recede

That and here my General's first battle, No women looking on nor sunshine to bask in, it did not conclude

I saw him at the river-side, Down by the ferry lit by torches, hastening the embarcation; My General

But when my General pass'd me, As he stood in his boat and look'd toward the coming sun, I saw something

By the Bivouac's Fitful Flame.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

the silence, Like a phantom far or near an occasional figure moving, The shrubs and trees, (as I lift my

Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

battle, the even-contested battle, Till late in the night reliev'd to the place at last again I made my

long-drawn sigh, long, long I gazed, Then on the earth partially reclining sat by your side leaning my

chin in my hands, Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you dearest comrade—not a tear

, not a word, Vigil of silence, love and death, vigil for you my son and my soldier, As onward silently

A March in the Ranks Hard-Prest, and the Road Unknown.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

smoke, By these, crowds, groups of forms vaguely I see on the floor, some in the pews laid down, At my

stanch the blood temporarily, (the youngster's face is white as a lily,) Then before I depart I sweep my

resume as I chant, I see again the forms, I smell the odor, Then hear outside the orders given, Fall in, my

A Sight in Camp in the Daybreak Gray and Dim.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

A SIGHT in camp in the daybreak gray and dim, As from my tent I emerge so early sleepless, As slow I

Who are you my dear comrade? Then to the second I step—and who are you my child and darling?

As Toilsome I Wander'd Virginia's Woods.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

AS toilsome I wander'd Virginia's woods, To the music of rustling leaves kick'd by my feet, (for 'twas

this sign left, On a tablet scrawl'd and nail'd on the tree by the grave, Bold, cautious, true, and my

Long, long I muse, then on my way go wandering, Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene of

soldier's grave, comes the inscrip- tion inscription rude in Virginia's woods, Bold, cautious, true, and my

Year That Trembled and Reel'd Beneath Me.

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

the air I breathed froze me, A thick gloom fell through the sunshine and darken'd me, Must I change my

Leaves of Grass (1891–1892)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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!

my Captain!

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse

or "To the Leaven'd Soil they Trod," Or "Captain! My Captain!"

Epigraph. Leaves of Grass (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Leaves of Grass (1891) COME, said my Soul, Such verses for my Body let us write, (for we are one,) That

Ever and ever yet the verses owning—as, first, I here and now, Signing for Soul and Body, set to them my

Preface. Leaves of Grass (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Besides, is not the verse-field, as originally plann'd by my theory, now sufficiently illustrated—and

—(indeed amid no loud call or market for my sort of poetic utterance.)

defiance, to that kind of well-put interrogation, here comes this little cluster, and conclusion of my

collated, it is worth printing (certainly I have nothing fresh to write)—I while away the hours of my

72d year—hours of forced confinement in my den—by putting in shape this small old age collation: Last

Essay. Leaves of Grass (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

I had my choice when I commenc'd.

My Book and I—what a period we have presumed to span!

my own distinctive era and surroundings, America, Democracy?)

I felt it all as positively then in my young days as I do now in my old ones; to formulate a poem whose

But my volume is a candidate for the future.

Imprimatur. Leaves of Grass (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

the title of a Book, the title or description of which is in the following words, to wit: GOOD-BYE MY

work, books especially, has pass'd; and waiting till fully after that, I have given (pages 423-438) my

Cluster: Inscriptions. (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

As I ponder'd in silence, Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long, A Phantom arose before

Bear forth to them folded my love, (dear mariners, for you I fold it here in every leaf;) Speed on my

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

my real life, Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections I seek for my own use to

BEGINNING MY STUDIES.

Cluster: Children of Adam. (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

To rise thither with my inebriate soul! To be lost if it must be so!

songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins.

was still ringing little bells last night under my ear.

voice, approach, Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass, Be not afraid of my body

Cluster: Calamus. (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

SCENTED HERBAGE OF MY BREAST.

O blossoms of my blood!

EARTH, MY LIKENESS.

WHAT THINK YOU I TAKE MY PEN IN HAND? WHAT think you I take my pen in hand to record?

THAT SHADOW MY LIKENESS.

Cluster: Birds of Passage. (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

COME my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready, Have you your pistols?

O my breast aches with tender love for all!

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

I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies, as I myself do,

name, the Past, And in the name of these States and in your and my name, the Present time.

Cluster: Sea-Drift. (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

do I not see my love fluttering out among the breakers?

Loud I call to you, my love!

who I am, my love.

Hither my love! Here I am! here!

But my mate no more, no more with me! We two together no more.

Cluster: By the Roadside. (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

LOVER divine and perfect Comrade, Waiting content, invisible yet, but certain, Be thou my God.

O Death, (for Life has served its turn,) Opener and usher to the heavenly mansion, Be thou my God.

All great ideas, the races' aspirations, All heroisms, deeds of rapt enthusiasts, Be ye my Gods.

arm and half enclose with my hand, That containing the start of each and all, the virtue, the germs

SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance

Cluster: Drum-Taps. (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

My limbs, my veins dilate, my theme is clear at last, Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing

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

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

Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!

Cluster: Memories of President Lincoln. (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

Cluster: Autumn Rivulets. (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

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

COURAGE yet, my brother or my sister!

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

WHO LEARNS MY LESSON COMPLETE? WHO learns my lesson complete?

MY PICTURE-GALLERY.

Cluster: Whispers of Heavenly Death. (1891)

  • Date: 1891–1892
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

dear brothers' and sisters' sake, for the soul's sake, Wending my way through the homes of men, rich

words, mine only, Young and strong I pass knowing well I am destin'd myself to an early death; But my

charity has no death—my wisdom dies not, neither early nor late, And my sweet love bequeath'd here and

side, warlike, equal with any, real as any, Nor time nor change shall ever change me or my words. 4

Softly I lay my right hand upon you, you just feel it, I do not argue, I bend my head close and half

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