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My South! / O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse and love! good and evil! O all dear to me!"
For illustration, he gives utterance to phrases like this: "I effuse my flesh in eddies and drift it
He himself says, "Nor will my poems do good only, they will do just as much harm, perhaps more."
by the indolent waves, I am exposed, cut by bitter and poisoned hail Steeped amid honeyed morphine , my
darkness Our vessel riddled and slowly sinking—preparations to pass to the one we had conquered— The captain
following language of the new law, repealling the provisions of the old law inconsistent therewith, that my
question shall have been judicially pronounce invalid, or at least without some judicial sanction for my
— —"I have only enriched my garden With the black mire from the street."
usually very sudden, and it is not impossible that Bulwer may have reached his, in the “Caxtons” and “My
"My poor Rebecca, my dear sister, I am going to see thee! I am indeed happy!"
"'Behold, Lord. the agony of Thy handmaid: pity her sufferings; shorten her pains, my God, and let those
The only American prophet to my knowledge who enjoys a fame in England not accorded him in his own country
, strolling tides, Companions, travelers, gossiping as they journey; And he sends it out 'partly as my
And thee, My Soul! Joys, ceaseless exercises, exaltations!
Thee for my recitative!
Roll through my chant with all thy lawless music!
see also a letter Whitman writes to his niece, Jessie Louisa Whitman, on March 6, 1887: "Well I had my
see also a letter Whitman writes to his niece, Jessie Louisa Whitman, on March 6, 1887: "Well I had my
rocky founded island—shores where ever gayly dash the coming, going, hurrying sea waves " ("Mannahatta [My
"Come, Said My Soul" was reprinted in the New York Daily Tribune, 19 February 1876, and on the title
[Out from Behind This Mask]Reprinted as "Out from Behind This Mask: To confront My Portrait, illustrating
[Come, said my Soul]According to the Comprehensive Reader's Edition of Leaves of Grass, this poem appeared
Two Rivulets" section of Two Rivulets (1876).; Reprinted as "Out from Behind This Mask: To confront My
.; Reprinted as "Interpolation Sounds" in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891).
.; Reprinted in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891).
.; This poem later appeared as "Calamus No. 40," Leaves of Grass (1860); as "That Shadow My Likeness,
section 1); in "Song of Myself" he is situated "Under Niagara, the cataract falling like a veil over my
The poem is one of the thiry-one poems included in Second Annex--Good-Bye My Fancy, 1891–1892.
talk of the Vetterans getting out yet: if you have any thing in the way of advice to give concerning my
Books, and I have thought that were bigger fools than me making a living very Easy although I admit my
note by Whitman following the closer that reads, "June 25th '65—I have rec'd many curious letters in my
occasionaly showed some little kindness to—I met him, talked with him some,—he came one rainy night to my
such houses as we were talking about,' are—upon the whole not to be answered—(& yet I itch to satisfy my
Still Night of Sleep—my bridal Night!
Earth of the limpid gray of clouds purer and clearer for my sake!
arrive, or pass'd on farther than those of the earth, I henceforth no more ignore them than I ignore my
arrive, or pass'd on farther than those of the earth, I henceforth no more ignore them than I ignore my
Receive me and my lover too—he will not let me go without him.
Darkness, you are gentler than my lover!
I descend my western course, my sinews are flaccid, Perfume and youth course through me, and I am their
carefully darn my grand-son's stockings.
How he informs against my brother and sister, and takes pay for their blood!
/ Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sun-light expands my blood?
/ Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
blood—that if I walk with an arm of theirs around my neck, my soul leaps and laughs like a new-waked
—(Am I loved by them boundlessly because my love for them is more boundless?
truth, my sympathy, and my dignity.
And you O my soul where you stand, Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly
need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold, Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my
And you O my soul where you stand, Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly
need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold, Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my
Apostrophizing his own soul ("And you O my soul"), the poet's analogical process is similar to Oliver
Ontario June 29 th 1880 My dearest Friend, Perhaps you thought I had forgotten you, but I have not much
Please give my love to all and as I have told you all I know I will close here.
perfumes, nor the high, rain- emitting rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air, Any more than my
down-balls nor perfumes, nor the high rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air, Any more than my
perfumes, nor the high, rain- emitting rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air, Any more than my
down-balls nor perfumes, nor the high rain-emitting clouds, are borne through the open air, Any more than my
Not Heaving from my Ribb'd Breast Only
Not Heaving From My Ribb'd Breast Only. NOT HEAVING FROM MY RIBB'D BREAST ONLY.
NOT heaving from my ribb'd breast only; Not in sighs at night, in rage, dissatisfied with myself; Not
in those long-drawn, ill-supprest sighs; Not in many an oath and promise broken; Not in my wilful and
savage soul's volition; Not in the subtle nourishment of the air; Not in this beating and pounding at my
O pulse of my life! Need I that you exist and show yourself, any more than in these songs.
Not Heaving From My Ribb'd Breast Only Not Heaving from my Ribb'd Breast only.
NOT heaving from my ribb'd breast only; Not in sighs at night, in rage, dissatisfied with myself; Not
in those long-drawn, ill-supprest sighs; Not in many an oath and promise broken; Not in my wilful and
savage soul's volition; Not in the subtle nourishment of the air; Not in this beating and pounding at my
O pulse of my life! Need I that you exist and show yourself, any more than in these songs.
Not Heaving From My Ribb'd Breast Only. NOT HEAVING FROM MY RIBB'D BREAST ONLY.
NOT heaving from my ribb'd breast only, Not in sighs at night in rage dissatisfied with myself, Not in
those long-drawn, ill-supprest sighs, Not in many an oath and promise broken, Not in my wilful and savage
soul's volition, Not in the subtle nourishment of the air, Not in this beating and pounding at my temples
O pulse of my life! Need I that you exist and show yourself any more than in these songs.
Not Heaving From My Ribb'd Breast Only. NOT HEAVING FROM MY RIBB'D BREAST ONLY.
NOT heaving from my ribb'd breast only, Not in sighs at night in rage dissatisfied with myself, Not in
those long-drawn, ill-supprest sighs, Not in many an oath and promise broken, Not in my wilful and savage
soul's volition, Not in the subtle nourishment of the air, Not in this beating and pounding at my temples
O pulse of my life! Need I that you exist and show yourself any more than in these songs.
JackField"Not Heaving from my Ribb'd Breast Only" (1860)"Not Heaving from my Ribb'd Breast Only" (1860
Adhesiveness," which the poet addresses in "Not Heaving" as the "pulse of my life," is a term from phrenology
"Not Heaving from my Ribb'd Breast Only" (1860)
Not my Enemies ever invade me
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!
Surface 40 contains, among other notes, a cancelled line reading "yet my soul-dearest leaves—the hardest
verses in this notebook were published posthumously as [I Stand and Look], Ship of Libertad, and Of My
Backward Glance O'er Travel'd Roads was drawn from three previously published pieces (A Backward Glance on My
Own Road [1884], How I Made a Book [1886], and My Book and I [1887]).
as my body did its food.
It strengthened my faith, and very curiously wrought upon and contributed to my sense of self, my personality
And again: "My comrade!
O my rapt song, my charm—mock me not!
When it was concluded he added O Captain, My Captain ,and a few other pieces, and joining them to the
'Gardner was a mighty good fellow—also mightily my friend: he was always loving: I feel near to him—always—to
When he received some photos from Gutekunst in 1888, Whitman said, "They are first-rate: they satisfy my
Despite his overwhelming success as a photographer, he remained a frustrated painter: "all my art in
this forenoon to Sarony's, the great photographic establishment, where I was invited to come & sit for my
Tarisse) / From Shadows, deep & dark I peer Out / On Nature, on my comrades dear / Curious / Peering
My heart to night Runs over with the fullness of content;" —which we have marked for publication.
('Just now I am finishing a big volume of about 900 pages comprehending all my stuff, poems and prose
Now he writes, "Have not been out-doors for over six months—hardly out of my room, but get along better
Or in "A Carol closing Sixty-nine':— "Of me myself—the jocund heart yet beating in my breast, The body
old, poor, and paralysed—the strange inertia falling pall-like round me, The burning fires down in my
And in another passage (in the introductory essay) he says—'No one will get at my verses who insists
take from my lips this kiss; Whoever you are, I give it especially to you; So long!
Now List to My Morning's Romanza.
NOW LIST TO MY MORNING'S ROMANZA. 1 Now list to my morning's romanza—I tell the signs of the Answerer
And I stand before the young man face to face, and take his right hand in my left hand, and his left
hand in my right hand, And I answer for his brother, and for men, and I an- swer answer for him that
to the President at his levee, And he says, Good-day, my brother!
Now List to My Morning's Romanza NOW LIST TO MY MORNING'S ROMANZA.
NOW list to my morning's romanza; To the cities and farms I sing, as they spread in the sunshine before
And I stood before the young man face to face, and took his right hand in my left hand, and his left
hand in my right hand, And I answer'd for his brother, and for men, and I answer'd for THE POET, and
to the President at his levee, And he says, Good-day, my brother!
or "To the Leaven'd Soil they Trod," Or "Captain! My Captain!"
thy Equal Brood," and many, many more unspecified, From fibre heart of mine—from throat and tongue—(My