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The poem of yours that I read over with the most satisfaction is your Burial Hymn of Lincoln —But as my
I hope that you will not be offended at the imperfect way in which I have tried to express my faith in
This last pleasure has been denied me; but one of the pleasantest memories of my life is the recollection
decade of his life, he collected royalties on sales of his photographs and had a taste of celebrity: "my
—They retard my book . . ."
As late as 1888 he said of phrenology to Horace Traubel: "I guess most of my friends distrust it—but
In "Song of Myself" the poet asserts: "Before I was born out of my mother generations guided me, / My
The first several lines of draft were revised and published as My Picture-Gallery in The American in
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
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
COME my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready, Have you your pistols?
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!
See my children, resolute children, By those swarms upon our rear we must never yield or falter, Ages
I too with my soul and body, We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way, Through these shores
COME my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready, Have you your pistols?
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!
See my children, resolute children, By those swarms upon our rear we must never yield or falter, Ages
I too with my soul and body, We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way, Through these shores
My thanks also go to my colleagues at the University of Freiburg for sharing their ideas and offering
Finally, my love and gratitude go to my father, Heinz Gerhardt, for sharing his fascination with other
gab and my loitering” (LG 77).
Ah my silvery beauty – ah my woolly white and crimson!” (“Delicate Cluster”).
O I cruise my old cruise again!
When painfully athwart my brain Dark thoughts come crowding on, And, sick of worldly hollowness, My heart
out upon the green I walk, Just ere the close of day, And swift I ween the sight I view Clears all my
I am with you in my soul: I shout—I strike the ball with you— With you I race and roll.— Methinks, white‑winged
See in particular the opening line: "I WANDER all night in my vision," (1855, p. 70).; There is also
I fling out my fancies toward them;" (1855, p. 38).; 2; 3
Poem for of of adherence to of my adherence the good old cause the "good old cause" is that in all its
Grier notes that a portion of this notebook (beginning "How spied the captain and sailors") describes
See particularly the following lines (from the 1891–2 edition): "O the old manhood of me, my noblest
/ My children and grand-children, my white hair and beard, / My largeness, calmness, majesty, out of
the long stretch of my life" (145).
His blood My gore presently oozes from trickles down from a score of thinned with the plentiful sweat
salt ooze of my skin , And See how it as trickles down the black skin I slowly fall s on the reddened
Grier notes that a portion of this notebook (beginning "How spied the captain and sailors") describes
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, I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother, The same wait to clear the
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
My children and grand-children—my white hair and beard, My largeness, calmness, majesty, out of the long
stretch of my life.
is my mind!
O the real life of my senses and flesh, transcending my senses and flesh; O my body, done with materials—my
O to have my life henceforth my poem of joys!
myself make the only growth by which I can be appreciated, I reject none, accept all, reproduce all in my
Have you studied out my land, its idioms and men?
What is this you bring my America? Is it uniform with my country?
Will it absorb into me as I absorb food, air, nobility, meanness—to appear again in my strength, gait
Underneath all is nativity, I swear I will stand by my own nativity—pious or impious, so be it!
REALISM is mine, my miracles, Take all of the rest—take freely—I keep but my own—I give only of them,
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
Part of "Pictures" was published as "My Picture-Gallery" in The American in October 1880 and later incorporated
It is I, you women—I make my way, I am stern, acrid, large, undissuadable—but I love you, I do not hurt
babes I beget upon you are to beget babes in their turn, I shall demand perfect men and women out of my
O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman! Such gliding wonders! Such sights and sounds!
change of the light and shade, I see distant lands, as real and near to the inhabitants of them as my
see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, Do not weep for me, this is not my
I do not refuse you my hand, or prefer others before you, I do not say one word against you.
way myself, I find my home wherever there are any homes of men.
curious, breath- ing breathing , laughing flesh is enough, To pass among them, to touch any one, to rest my
As I see my soul reflected in nature, as I see through a mist, one with inexpressible com- pleteness
O my body!
are to stand or fall with the likes of the soul, I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my
instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel, All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of my
COME closer to me, Push close, my lovers, and take the best I possess, Yield closer and closer, and give
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 outlawed deeds, do you think I cannot remember my
this day just as much in love with them as you, Then I am eternally in love with you, and with all my
friendly companions, I intend to reach them my hand, and make as much of them as I do of men and women
ALL day I have walked the city and talked with my friends, and thought of prudence, Of time, space, reality—of
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 answered for his brother, and for men, and I answered for the poet, and
to the President at his levee, And he says, Good-day, my brother!
Then the mechanics take him for a mechanic, And the soldiers suppose him to be a captain, and the sailors
and let one line of my poem contradict another! Let the people sprawl with yearning aimless hands!
Let him who is without my poems be assas- sinated assassinated !
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
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?
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well. Allons! be not detained!
I give you my hand!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
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?
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well. Allons! Be not detained!
I give you my hand!
without shame or the need of shame Air, soil, water, fire, these are words, I myself am a word with them—my
qualities interpenetrate with theirs—my name is noth- ing nothing to them, Though it were told in the
three thousand lan- guages languages , what would air, soil, water, fire, know of my name?
When I undertake to tell the best, I find I can- not cannot , My tongue is ineffectual on its pivots,
My breath will not be obedient to its organs, I become a dumb man.
my soul!
my palms cover continents, I am afoot with my vision.
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
Come my children, Come my boys and girls, my women, household, intimates, Now the performer launches
Unfolded only out of the inimitable poem of the woman can come the poems of man — only thence have my
withdraw from the still woods I loved, I will not go now on the pastures to walk, I will not strip my
clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea, I will not touch my flesh to the earth, as to other flesh
I do not see any of it upon you today—or per- haps perhaps I am deceived, I will run a furrow with my
plough—I will press my spade through the sod, and turn it up underneath, I am sure I shall expose some
That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues!
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 blabbed
light, But I paint myriads of heads, but paint no head without its nimbus of gold-colored light, From my
This poem later appeared as "Calamus No. 40," Leaves of Grass (1860); as "That Shadow My Likeness," Leaves
O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul!
Softly I lay my right hand upon you—you just feel it; I do not argue—I bend my head close, and half-
President Lincoln's Funeral Hymn O Captain! My Captain! (for the Death of Lincoln) Pioneers!
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! (F OR THE EATH OF INCOLN CAPTAIN ! my Captain! our fearful trip is done!
Leave you not the little spot Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!
my Captain! rise up and hear the bells! Rise up!
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still: My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse
.; ∗ The reader will share my wish that Whitman had written sanctus spiritus, which is right, instead
The recherché or ethereal sense of the term, as used in my book, arises probably from the actual Calamus
My children and grand-children—my white hair and beard, My largeness, calmness, majesty, out of the long
stretch of my life.
is my mind!
O the real life of my senses and flesh, transcending my senses and flesh; O my body, done with materials—my
O to have my life henceforth my poem of joys!
results—and I will show that nothing can happen more beautiful than death; And I will thread a thread through my
succeeding poem, we have him clearly in trance, and the impressing spirit speaking through him:— Take my
see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, Do not weep for me, This is not my
Here is one which again proclaims his purpose:— I stand in my place, with my own day, here.
And what are my miracles? 2.
side, and some behind, and some embrace my arms and neck.
"So my friends tell me, but I never met him." "Don't you think, Mr.
"I resist anything better than my own diversity," says Whitman in "Song of Myself" (section 16).
Lines written by the deceased, months previous to his death: “Weep not for me, my Charlotte dear, for
I am better off; For I am sure you knew my sufferings here, and what a dreadful cough; But God has taken
bit of pathos—indubitably human—in my eye, confess now am I not a man and a brother?"
place, with my own day, here."
my dwell- dwelling .)"
'O the life of my senses and flesh, transcending my senses and flesh.'
my South! O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse and love! good and evil! O all dear to me!"
my South!O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse and love! good and evil! O all dear to me!"
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, The most prejudiced will not deny that that
"In the year 80 of the States, My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air, Born
"Take my leaves, America! take them South, and take them North! Surround them, East and West!
"O my comrade! O you and me at last, and us two only! O to level occupations and the sexes!
If he worships any particular thing, he says it shall be "some of the spread of my own body."
One long passage commences thus: "O my body!
"What's all this about, my boy?"
"Is it a patent of nobility, or is it an address from a lot of my young friends?"
My paralysis has made me so lame lately that I had to give up even my walks for health, let alone my
rambles in the country, and my constitution has suffered for exercise.
TO EASE MY DECLINING YEARS.
Whitman recited "John Anderson, my Jo, John."
The returns of the Captains who have submitted to the new law were first sent in, and as they were addressed
I will make my returns in this manner as long as the Mayor says so.
Deputy —The Mayor is not my boss, nor yours. Capt. P. —Well, the Mayor's my boss.
—I'm going to put my returns there as usual, if you throw me out as well as them.
Captains Powers and King afterwards went to the Mayor as on Saturday, and detailed to him the result
Yesterday forenoon Deputy Superintendent Folk requested each of the Captains under his command to report
At the hour appointed, however, each of the Captains were presented with a copy of Mr.
It was understood that if Captain Powers did not call the roll of the 11th ward, the Assistant Captain
Captain Powers however called the names as usual, and everything passed off smoothly.
The 14th ward men still hold out against the new regime, but obey the Captain's orders.