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Search : of captain, my captain!

8125 results

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!)

Miracles

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

and which are my miracles?

Realism is mine—my miracles—Take freely, Take without end—I offer them to you wherever your feet can

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

any one I love—or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love, Or sit at the table at dinner with my

perfect old man, or the perfect old woman, Or the sick in hospitals, or the dead carried to burial, Or my

You Felons on Trial in Courts

  • Date: 1867
  • 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?

Now Lift Me Close

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

take from my lips this kiss; Whoever you are, I give it especially to you; So long!

Drum-Taps

  • Date: 1867
  • 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

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

Shut Not Your Doors to Me Proud Libraries

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

for your dear sake, O soldiers, And for you, O soul of man, and you, love of comrades; The words of my

Song of the Banner at Day-Break

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

O my father, It is so broad, it covers the whole sky! FATHER.

now the halyards have rais'd it, Side of my banner broad and blue—side of my starry banner, Discarding

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; The blood of the world has fill'd me full—my theme is clear at last : —Banner

By the Bivouac's Fitful Flame

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

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

Beginning My Studies

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

Beginning My Studies BEGINNING MY STUDIES.

BEGINNING my studies, the first step pleas'd me so much, The mere fact, consciousness—these forms—the

pleas'd me so much, I have never gone, and never wish'd to go, any farther, But stop and loiter all my

The Centenarian's Story

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

Why do you tremble, and clutch my hand so convul- sively convulsively ?

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

night of that, mist lifting, rain ceasing, Silent as a ghost, while they thought they were sure of him, my

him at the river-side, Down by the ferry, lit by torches, hastening the embar- cation embarcation ; My

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

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

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

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

2 For we cannot tarry here, We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, We, the youthful

O my breast aches with tender love for all!

12 See, my children, resolute children, By those swarms upon our rear, we must never yield or falter,

18 I too with my soul and body, We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way, Through these shores

The Dresser

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

O maidens and young men I love, and that love me, What you ask of my days, those the strangest and sud

Bearing the bandages, water and sponge, Straight and swift to my wounded I go, Where they lie on the

knee, the wound in the abdo- men abdomen , These and more I dress with impassive hand—(yet deep in my

Thus in silence, in dream's projections, Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hos- pitals

Rise O Days From Your Fathom-Less Deeps

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

Long for my soul, hungering gymnastic, I devour'd what the earth gave me; Long I roam'd the woods of

O wild as my heart, and powerful!)

wonder, yet pensive and masterful; All the menacing might of the globe uprisen around me; Yet there with my

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

longer wait—I am fully satisfied—I am glutted; I have witness'd the true lighting—I have witness'd my

City of Ships

  • Date: 1867
  • 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

Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night

  • Date: 1867
  • 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

Solid, Ironical, Rolling Orb

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

—at last I accept your terms; Bringing to practical, vulgar tests, of all my ideal dreams, And of me,

Weave In, Weave In, My Hardy Life

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

Weave In, Weave In, My Hardy Life WEAVE IN, WEAVE IN, MY HARDY LIFE. WEAVE in!

weave in, my hardy life!

Pensive on Her Dead Gazing, I Heard the Mother of All

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

earth, she cried—I charge you, lose not my sons!

local spots, and you airs that swim above lightly, And all you essences of soil and growth—and you, O my

; And you trees, down in your roots, to bequeath to all future trees, My dead absorb—my young men's beautiful

darlings—give my immortal heroes; Exhale me them centuries hence—breathe me their breath—let not an

O my dead, an aroma sweet! Exhale them perennial, sweet death, years, centuries hence.

When Lilacs Last in the Door-Yard Bloom'd

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

O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul!

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

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

While my sight that was bound in my eyes unclosed, As to long panoramas of visions. 18 I saw the vision

Must I pass from my song for thee; From my gaze on thee in the west, fronting the west, com- muning communing

O Captain! My Captain!

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

O Captain! 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!

This arm I push beneath you; It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead. 3 My captain

But I, with silent tread, Walk the spot my captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

Spirit Whose Work Is Done

  • Date: 1867
  • 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!

Let them scorch and blister out of my chants, when you are gone; Let them identify you to the future

Chanting the Square Deific

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

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

children—with fresh and sane words, mine only; Young and strong I pass, knowing well I am destin'd my

- self 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 elsewhere, never dies. 3 Aloof, dissatisfied, plotting revolt

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

I Heard You, Solemn-Sweet Pipes of the Organ

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

Italian tenor, singing at the opera—I heard the soprano in the midst of the quartet singing; …Heart of my

—you too I heard, murmuring low, through one of the wrists around my head; Heard the pulse of you, when

all was still, ringing little bells last night under my ear.

Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me

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

Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me NOT MY ENEMIES EVER INVADE ME.

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!

Ah Poverties, Wincings, and Sulky Retreats

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

(For what is my life, or any man's life, but a conflict with foes—the old, the incessant war?)

painful and choked articulations—you mean- nesses meannesses ; You shallow tongue-talks at tables, (my

You broken resolutions, you racking angers, you smother'd ennuis; Ah, think not you finally triumph—My

As I Lay With My Head in Your Lap, Camerado

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

As I Lay With My Head in Your Lap, Camerado AS I LAY WITH MY HEAD IN YOUR LAP, CAMERADO.

AS I lay with my head in your lap, camerado, The confession I made I resume—what I said to you and the

open air I resume: I know I am restless, and make others so; I know my words are weapons, full of danger

Dirge for Two Veterans

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

O my soldiers twain! O my veterans, passing to burial!

have I also give you. 9 The moon gives you light, And the bugles and the drums give you music; And my

heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, My heart gives you love.

How Solemn, as One by One

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

glance upward out of this page, studying you, dear friend, whoever you are;) How solemn the thought of my

Reconciliation

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

the sisters Death and Night, incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world: …For my

where he lies, white-faced and still, in the coffin—I draw near; I bend down and touch lightly with my

To the Leaven'd Soil They Trod

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

trod, calling, I sing, for the last; (Not cities, nor man alone, nor war, nor the dead, But forth from my

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 ripen my

As I Sat Alone by Blue Ontario's Shore

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

For that we live, my brethren—that is the mission of Poets.

Have you studied out my land, its idioms and men?

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

rapt song, my charm—mock me not!

You, by my charm, I invoke!

Leaves of Grass 2

  • 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

To Other Lands

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

for something to repre- sent represent the new race, our self-poised Democracy, Therefore I send you my

Song of the Open Road

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

You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!

Why, when they leave me, do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?

My call is the call of battle—I nourish active re- bellion rebellion ?

It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well. Allons! Be not detain'd!

I give you my hand!

To Workingmen

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

To Workingmen TO WORKINGMEN. 1 COME closer to me; Push close, my lovers, and take the best I possess;

Neither a servant nor a master am I; I take no sooner a large price than a small price—I will have my

become so for your sake; If you remember your foolish and outlaw'd deeds, do you think I cannot remember my

are; I am this day just as much in love with them as you; Then I am in love with you, and with all my

List close, my scholars dear!

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