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Whitman Esq Feb 24.1890 My dear, venerable friend It was my intention to have noted my recent call upon
you, with my expressions of the great pleasure that visit had given me, but I have been prevented doing
so, from having taken cold in my eyes, subjecting me to a sort of vagabond life for the past week.
delighted to have you acknowledge this note, if you feel, it will not be a task— Accept dear friend, my
Whitman 1740 N. 15th st.Phila My father was John F.
Walt Whitman Esq— 2337 N. 18th St, Phila Nov 3rd— My dear, dear friend I am so charmed with the account
two congenial, noble men — I myself feel honored to have known you & proudly regard you, as one of my
childrens names & a member of the Whitman family, whom my noble, grand, old father-in-law would have
Traubel, With Walt Whitman in Camden, Thursday, September 12, 1889 and Saturday, September 14, 1889: "My
My dear friend I am too sorry that you are not well enough to see me, but I trust I may be able to do
old shoe with me, with which I wanted to inspire you to write me some verses — It was once worn by my
much.— May our Heavenly Father spare both you & I for sometime yet Truly your friend Lavinia F Whitman My
24 May 1889 My sir.
I pray then you to rec to my a copy.
to experience a region that had long been vividly alive in his imagination: "I have found the law of my
My dear sir, I was very glad to hear of the receipt of the check I sent you & to know that it had already
system, but without effect— I have received twenty dollars here to be forwarded to you, ($10 cash from my
My dear sir, Having an opportunity to send by Miss Lowe the $20. From H. Lee, & B.
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
Features of my equals, would you trick me with your creased and cadaverous march?
I saw the face of the most smeared and slobbering idiot they had at the asylum, And I knew for my consolation
what they knew not, And I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother, The same wait to clear
she blushingly cries—Come nigh to me, limber-hipp'd man, and give me your finger and thumb, Stand at my
upon you, Fill me with albescent honey, bend down to me, Rub to me with your chafing beard, rub to my
I rubbed my eyes a little, to see if this sunbeam were no illusion; but the solid sense of the book is
head at nightfall, and he is fain to say,— I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable; I sound my
I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease…observing a spear of summer grass.
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeeful green stuff woven.
All I mark as my own you shall offset it with your own, Else it were time lost listening to me.
." ***** "O despairer, here is my neck, You shall not go down! Hang your whole weight upon me."
My moral constitution may be hopelessly tainted or—too sound to be tainted, as the critic wills, but
, Earth of the limpid grey of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake! Far swooping elbowed earth!
The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul."
———Under Niagara, the cataract falling like a veil over my countenance ."
Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake! Far-swooping elbowed earth!
the wounded person, My hurt turns livid upon me as I lean on a cane and observe.
Heat and smoke I inspired…I heard the yelling shouts of my comrades, I heard the distant click of their
I lie in the night air in my red shirt…the pervading hush is for my sake, Painless after all I lie, exhausted
"I, too, am not a bit tamed…I, too, am untransla- table untranslatable ; I sound my barbaric yawp over
I could not shut my eyes to their wild, rough beauty nor close my soul to the truths they expressed.
I write simply to express my unqualified disgust with the portions I have read.
more foolish than the rest of the volume:— "I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable, I sound my
The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness, after the rest, and true as any, on the
I depart as air—I shake my white locks at the run-away sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it
To prepare for sleep, for bed—to look on my rose-coloured flesh, To be conscious of my body, so amorous
Have you learned the physiology, phrenology, politics, geography, pride, freedom, friendship, of my land
Earth of the limpid grey of clouds, brighter and clearer for my sake! Far-swooping elbowed Earth!
since, after the closest inquiry, "I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones."
If I worship any particular thing, it shall be some the spread of my own body."
As for Mine, Mine has the idea of my own, and what's Mine is my own, and my own is all Mine and believes
in your and my name, the Present time. 6.
I lie in the night air in my red shirt—the pervading hush is for my sake, Painless after all I lie, exhausted
look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books : ; "You shall not look through my
beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough; To pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my
I wish to see my benefactor, and have felt much like striking my tasks and visiting New York to pay you
my respects.
The air tastes good to my palate.
Was't charged against my chants they had forgotten art?
Another song on the death of Lincoln, "Oh Captain! My Captain!"
make the only growth by which I can be appreciated, I reject none, accept all, then reporduce all in my
For the great Idea, That, O my brethren, that is the mission of poets.
I loafe and invite my soul. I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of sum- mer summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air, Born here of parents born here from
stuck up, and am in my place.
Now comes a passage remarkable for its nobility: "With music strong I come, with my cornets and my drums
I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.
are famous everywhere; and, though later efforts have been less happy, the one exquisite song, "O, Captain
My Captain!" written on the death of Lincoln, would make him one of our honored poets forever.
future," "You do not understand me, you cannot understand me, but I can wait hundreds of years for my
— The words of my book nothing, the drift of it everything.
"Not objecting to special revelations, considering a curl of smoke or a hair on the back of my hand just
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, rise up and hear the bells.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse
Exult O shores, and ring O bells, But I with mournful tread Walk the deck my Captain lies, To analyze
Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain'd with iron or my ankles with iron?
do I exclude you, Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you and the leaves to rustle for you, do my
"The chief end I purpose to myself in all my labours," wrote Dean Swift, "is to vex the world rather
and flows": "This day, before dawn, I ascended a hill and look'd at the crowded heaven, And I said to my
And my spirit said ' No .'"
suddenly,—reservedly, with a beautiful paucity of communication, even silently, such was its effect on my
If I worship any particular thing, it shall be some of the spread of my own body."—p. 55.
My Soul and I: The Inner Life of Walt Whitman. Boston: Beacon, 1985. Feehan, Michael.
my respects.
my respects.
My Soul!
We closed with him . . . . the yards entangled . . . . the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
my best as for a purpose, Unbuttoning my clothes and holding me by the bare waist, Deluding my confusion
My Soul!
We closed with him . . . . the yards entangled . . . . the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
Come my children, Come my boys and girls, and my women and household and intimates, Now the performer
my soul!
We closed with him, the yards entangled, the can- non cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with his
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
O my body!
my brother or my sister! Keep on!
my Soul!
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with his own hands.
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
O the real life of my senses and flesh, transcending my senses and flesh; O my body, done with materials—my
my brother or my sister! Keep on!
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!
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the can- non cannon touch'd; My captain lash'd fast with his own
Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cries
Only three guns are in use; One is directed by the captain himself against the ene- my's enemy's main-mast
MY LIKENESS! EARTH! my likeness!
heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, My heart gives you love.
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!
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
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!"
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!
Fascinated, my eyes, reverting from the south, dropped, to follow those slender winrows, Chaff, straw
Bent to the very earth, here preceding what follows, Oppressed with myself that I have dared to open my
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!)
beget superb children, To speak readily and clearly—to feel at home among common people, And to hold my
Let me have my own way, Let others promulge the laws—I will make no ac- count account of the laws, Let
charged against me, half as bad as the evil I really am; I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my
friends, but listen to my enemies—as I my- self myself do; I charge you, too, forever, reject those
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 moth- er's mother's womb is equally wonderful; And how I was not palpable once, but
And that my Soul embraces you this hour, and we af- fect affect each other without ever seeing each other
distinctly I comprehend no better sphere than this earth, I comprehend no better life than the life of my
I do not know what follows the death of my body, But I know well that whatever it is, it is best for
I am not uneasy but I shall have good housing to myself, But this is my first—how can I like the rest
face the same, But this is the nipple of a breast of my mother, always near and always divine to me,
— and that the experience of this earth will prove only one out of myriads; But I believe my body and
Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chained with iron, or my ankles with iron?
, Unfolded only out of the inimitable poem of the woman, can come the poems of man—only thence have my
arrive, or passed on farther than those of the earth, I henceforth no more ignore them than I ignore my
and 73d Years of These States," "A Boston Ballad (1854)," "There Was a Child Went Forth," "Who Learns My
My fit is mastering me!"
Ballad (1854)," would be hard to fit into "Song of Myself," and the omission of the slight "Who Learns My
himself the murderous impulse which may precipitate his fits of existential anxiety and sexual guilt: "My
—They retard my book very much" (Correspondence 1:44).
reveals a darker Whitman, suspicious, uncertain, and lonely: "Here the frailest leaves of me, and yet my
Leaves contains only six new poems ("Inscription" [later "One's-Self I Sing" and "Small the Theme of My
most recognizable image of the "Ship of State" had been published in the popular 1865–1866 text, "O Captain
My Captain!
poems (five) contained in the 1876 Leaves: four intercalated poems and the title page's "Come, said my
Although one additional poem, "Come, said my Soul," would later be restored to the Leaves as epigraph
Between the poems and the essay, filling pages 405–422, appeared the second annex, "Good-Bye my Fancy
of his long labors: "L. of G. at last complete—after 33 y'rs of hackling at it, all times & moods of my
work, books especially, has pass'd; and waiting till fully after that, I have given (pages 423–438) my
by the 1889 text of the poems of Leaves of Grass; the two annexes, "Sands at Seventy" and "Good-Bye my
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
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;