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in the two volumes are Specimen Days & Collect, November Boughs, and the prose portions of Good-Bye My
Come, said my Soul
26Come, said my Soul… Proof with signature.loc.00183xxx.00596Come, Said My Soul1881poetryhandwritten1
On verso reads "Copyright 1881, By Walt Whitman, All rights reserved" Come, Said My Soul
hun.00021xxx.00596HM 6713'Come said my soul. . .'
[Come, said my Soul]about 1875poetry1 leafhandwritten; A signed draft, heavily revised, of the untitled
'Come said my soul. . .'
My version of "Live Oak" differs from Parker's version in the Fourth Edition of The Norton Anthology
of American Literature (1994) , and Parker disapproves of my version, my title, and my interpretation
My essay first appeared in American Poetry Review months before The Continuing Presence came out, and
In any case, it's the later essay with my version of "Live Oak" that Parker rails against.
Parker is right in saying that I neglected to defend my choice, clearly a flaw in my essay.
GOOD-BYE MY FANCY.
My health is somewhat better, and my spirit at peace.
Indeed all my ferry friends—captain Frazee the superintendent, Lindell, Hiskey, Fred Rauch, Price, Watson
my ear.
Gilchrist—friends of my soul—stanchest friends of my other soul, my poems. ONLY A NEW FERRY BOAT.
volume contains the rest of Collect, all of November Boughs (1888), and the first part of Good-Bye My
it, in comparison, seem but a mere "mask of materials" or "show of appearance" ("Scented Herbage of My
death as meaning "precisely the same" and as being "folded inseparably together" ("Scented Herbage of My
In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was inclined toward me, / And his arm lay around my
My first instinct about all that Symonds writes is violently reactionary—is strong and brutal for no,
Then the thought intervenes that I maybe do not know all my own meanings" (With Walt Whitman 1:76–77)
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
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!"
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!
His elastic, eclectic "I" inviting conflicts and embracing inconsistencies "gives up" to the reader "my
and let one line of my poems contradict another!"
Conversations with Walt Whitman: My First Visit MY FIRST VISIT.
S ADAKICHI : "My father is a German, but my mother was a Japanese and I was born in Japan."
ONE of my first visits, after I had returned to Philadelphia from my first European trip, was to the
In my books, in my prose as well as my poetry are many knots to untie."
my captain' with which he generally concluded.
But a later letter to Rossetti recanted this position: "I cannot and will not consent, of my own volition
, to countenance an expurgated edition of my pieces" (Whitman 942).
O'Connor, pub'd posthumously in 1891, which appeared in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891), and in William Douglas
Paul called Christ, Mohammed called Gabriel, Dante called Beatrice, and Whitman called My Soul.Bucke
Swoon" (this poem appeared in only three editions: Leaves of Grass, 1876, which Bucke used; Good-Bye My
.; Reprinted in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891) under the title "Shakspere-Bacon's Cipher."
not smell— —I smell the your beautiful white roses— I kiss their soft your leafy lips—I reach slide my
Would you forgive my suggesting, as a sufficient reply to your adverse critics, the the insertion of
.; Reprinted under the new title "To the Pending Year" in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891).; Reprinted in Good-Bye
My Fancy (1891).
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. 7 It is not
mast- hemm'd mast-hemm'd Manhattan, My river and sun-set, and my scallop-edg'd waves of flood-tide,
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!
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!
than you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my
forever held in solution, I too had receiv'd identity by my body, That I was I knew was of my body,
What is more subtle than this which ties me to the woman or man that looks in my face?
Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you? We understand then do we not?
loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my
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.
Manhatta , My river and sun-set, and my scallop-edged waves of flood-tide, The sea-gulls oscillating
loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
than you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my
forever held in solution, I too had receiv'd identity by my body, That I was I knew was of my body,
What is more subtle than this which ties me to the woman or man that looks in my face?
Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you? We understand then do we not?
loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!
Dooryard Bloom'd," as one of his supreme achievements in this mode.Late in life Whitman commented, "My
Similarly, "the fine centrifugal spokes of light round the shape of my head in the sunlit water" (section
beginning of the poem Whitman calls the sights and sounds around him "glories strung like beads on my
My Soul and I: The Inner Life of Walt Whitman. Boston: Beacon, 1985. Coffman, Stanley K., Jr.
Can my your sight behold them as with oysters eyes?
Layard, " was the extent of my discoveries at Koyunjik.
No matter what length of time I spent in proving my case, I generally found my eloquence was expended
I had but time to throw up my right arm, when the avalanche descended.
I await my turn. In due time it comes.
My warriors fell around me. It began to look dismal. I saw my evil day at hand.
My dear Mr.
you or think of you, I feel once more the cool never to be forgotten breeze of a boundless prairie; my
respire more easily I feel perhaps freer for the time & less material & then again I feel that I hold in my
Furzedown, Streatham Surrey Sunday April 23. 1871 My dear Mr.
day—I have been very, very much occupied & intensely busy one way & another arrears of work claimed my
attention for you know I am not a "briefless barrister" & latterly my work has increased but I have
determined that this glorious spring time shall not pass without my carrying out the my my intention
smell of the flowers, the clouds the rainbows & sun lights as I see them & hear them all from this my
YORK, March 21 st 189 2 Mr Walt Whitman Dear Sir: Can you let me have "November Boughs" and "Good Bye My
Whitman's book Good-Bye My Fancy (1891) was his last miscellany, and it included both poetry and short
Thirty-one poems from the book were later printed as "Good-Bye my Fancy" in Leaves of Grass (1891–1892
For more information see, Donald Barlow Stauffer, "'Good-Bye my Fancy' (Second Annex) (1891)," Walt Whitman
New York, March 14, 188 3 My Dear Mr Whitman Enclosed please find CK check for $12.
, and My Picture-Gallery, are 14 words of notations in Whitman's hand.
SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance
SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance
Whitman, My dear Sir: The Browning Society of Boston will hold a Memorial Service in honor of the poet
Robert Browning (1812–1889), known for his dramatic monologues, including "Porphyria's Lover" and "My
My dear Mr.
Most of my graduate students are still surprised to find Whitman wrote a novel and published fiction
has a relative—a prisoner of war at Camp Chase, Ohio. he is desirous of obtaining the name of some Captains
, an order to obtain his exchange, by securing the release of the Captains.
Several of my brother officers are desirous of obtaining a copy of "the Reconnysance" by Capt Sim's.
& I would esteem it as a great favor, if you would enclose it, in a letter & send it to my address.
You will please accept a copy of my Ca accounts in exchange for your own.
—have a pretty bad cold, the doctor does not call my disease by any particular name—I have considerable
I send you my love.
Singing Thrush" (March 15, 1873; later called "Wandering at Morn"), "Spain" (March 24, 1873), "Sea Captains
Walt Whitman Esq My dear Sir: I ask you to excuse me for neglecting so long to answer your note.
It came to my house instead of the office and was consequently overlooked. It was Mrs.
She married a sea captain named Davis, but was soon widowed.
I tell you it's an impossibility to me; why, my whole income from my books during a recent half-year
its eight periods of growth, "hitches," he calls them, he completes them with the annex, "Good-bye my
Whispers of Heavenly Death" cannot be an irreverent person; the impassioned "prayer"— "That Thou, O God, my
For that, O God, be it my latest word, here on my knees, Old, poor, and paralyzed, I thank Thee....
When this is commented upon he laughingly says, "Oh, yes, my friends often tell me there is a book called
As far as my life goes it is written in the past.
For years it was my wish to live long enough to round out my life's story in my little book, 'The Leaves
I continue my work reading or writing to my friends."
as I tried to put it in my books.
It is only the closest student would find it in my works.
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.
There was no hurry in his manner; having found me a seat, and then only leaving hold of my hand, he sad
had thought before (and I do not know that I had) that Whitman was eccentric, unbalanced, violent, my
Putting on his grey slouch hat he sallied forth with evident pleasure, and taking my arm as a support
My original idea was that if I could bring men together by putting before them the heart of man, with
As to my own opinion, why", said Holmes, "I have already given you that.
Visits from English friends are perhaps my chief diversion."
Philadelphia, 1883. is going off slowly—not much cared for by my friends—but I like it.
He asked me somewhat about my life and doings at home.
There is something in my nature furtive like an old hen!
Time alone can absolutely test my poems or any one's.
, Manrico's passionate call, Ernani's, sweet Gennaro's, I fold thenceforth, or seek to fold, within my
In the afterlife, the soul's immaterial body, "transcending my senses and flesh . . . finally loves,
the third (1860) edition, "Starting from Paumanok," announced Whitman's intention to "make poems of my
body and of mortality . . . of my soul and of immortality" (section 6).
In "Scented Herbage of My Breast" and "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking" the poet searches for words
with minor masterpieces of affecting readiness for death: "After the Supper and Talk" and "Good-Bye my