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cheerfully accept, A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money, as I rendez- vous rendezvous with my
SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance
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, 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
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
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,
voice speaking, As to you Rebellious, (I seemed to hear her say,) why strive against me, and why seek my
yours—yet peace no more, In peace I chanted peace, but now the drum of war is mine, War, red war is my
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
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; 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
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, 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, 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
the air I breathed froze me, A thick gloom fell through the sunshine and darken'd me, Must I change my
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!"
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
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
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.
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
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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
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!
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.
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.
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
my special word to thee. Hear me illustrious!
lengthen- ing lengthening shadows, Prepare my starry nights.
my city! ALL IS TRUTH.
WEAVE IN, MY HARDY LIFE.
Then my realities; What else is so real as mine?
Open mouth of my soul uttering gladness, Eyes of my soul seeing perfection, Natural life of me faithfully
MY LEGACY.
, And you trees down in your roots to bequeath to all future trees, My dead absorb or South or North—my
I remember I said before my leaves sprang at all, I would raise my voice jocund and strong with reference
I have offer'd my style to every one, I have journey'd with confi- dent confident step; While my pleasure
Would you the undulation of one wave, its trick to me transfer, Or breathe one breath of yours upon my
past war, the battles, hospital sights, the wounded and the dead, Myself through every by-gone phase—my
idle youth—old age at hand, My three-score years of life summ'd up, and more, and past, By any grand
As I ponder'd in silence, Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long, A Phantom arose before
then I answer'd, I too haughty Shade also sing war, and a longer and greater one than any, Waged in my
Bear forth to them folded my love, (dear mariners, for you I fold it here in every leaf;) Speed on my
spread your white sails my little bark athwart the imperious waves, Chant on, sail on, bear o'er the
prove this puzzle the New World, And to define America, her athletic Democracy, Therefore I send you my
play of causes, (With vast results to come for thrice a thousand years,) These recitatives for thee,—my
And thee my soul, Joys, ceaseless exercises, exaltations, Thy yearning amply fed at last, prepared to
New Year's Day 1891 My Dear Mr Whitman I can not let the New Year go by, without wishing you "A Happy
Through this year just gone I have come to count you my dear friend.
Since I found my beloved Socrates no one has spoken such sane and manly words to me as you.
You know my motto: "Better than to stand to sit, better than to sit to lie, Better than to dream to sleep
These highly prized volumes of yours, and mine, became the latter by subscription, through my dear dead
"Democratic Vistas" since the books came, and am impelled to say to you that I rejoice greatly that my
Entering upon the New Year, let me then, my dear Walt Whitman, send you warm greeting from the Tropic
Monthly rejected four poems that Whitman had submitted ("Old Chants," "Grand Is the Seen," "Death dogs my
Whitman's preface was also included in Good-Bye My Fancy (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1891), 51–53.
Dec. 29, 1890 My Dear Friend, Thinking of you and wondering how your Christmas was spent has tempted
Please accept my thanks for the $2 which you sent the children.
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
Han—also 2 dollars—nothing for me—I am unworthy, although I entreated but for 5 dollars, to help pay my
My family live happily in London, though it is always fog there when there is frost—I should think they
But I don't, so I packed up my books and came here.
Alys is going to stay on a month & learn Italian & then in February she is going to Sicily with my mother
All my American friends—young men who have gone in for politics—are working with the Democratic party
I wish I had got this letter off in time to wish you a happy Christmas—but you must accept my somewhat
Crisis" refers to the public scandal that occurred when the Irish soldier and Member of Parliament Captain
I send you a little box of confections by Adams Exp. with my love.
Critic of November 28, 1890 (p. 282) printed a paragraph about Whitman's forthcoming volume Good-Bye My
Your name will be a sufficient warrant for my intruding upon his Alpine solitude and 7 months winter—in
54 Manchester Road Bolton Lancashire England Dec r 27 th 1890 Many thanks to you, my dear old friend,
Another treat in store for us is a Children's Party which my wife & I intend giving in our house, when
It will interest you to know that I have received a brief letter of acknowledgment of my "Notes" & of
I also send you copies of some verses I sent to some of my friends & a copy of this week's Annandale
Observer containing a notice of my "Notes."
over hereabout—but I keep a stout oakwood fire—& read & write & while away the time imprisoned here in my
room—hope you get the papers I send—often think of you there more than you know—(my favorite notion
the foundation of L of G, they are banded together in spirit and interest essentially all the earth) My