The length of my last post is probably a little off-putting to some people, so I thought I'd pop in and share a quick burst of creative energy. I've been trying to whittle down my love of Whitman's poetry to just two sets of lines all day, and I think I've finally nailed it. My original plan was to write a post called "My Favorite Whitman Verse," but there's just no way I can pick only one.
My first selection would have to be the beginning of Whitman's poem Mannahatta, an ode to New York City that's as close to my heart as anything the man ever wrote.
"I was asking for something specific and perfect for my city,
Whereupon lo! upsprang the aboriginal name.
Now I see what there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane,
unruly, musical, self-sufficient,
I see that the word of my city is that word from of old,
Because I see that word nested in nests of water-bays,
superb,
Rich, hemm'd thick all around with sailships and
steamships, an island sixteen miles long, solid-founded,
Numberless crowded streets, high growths of iron, slender,
strong, light, splendidly uprising toward clear skies . . ."
Since I've forced myself to narrow down this list to just two of my favorite bits of Whitman's verse, I've decided that I simply can't ignore "O Captain! My Captain!", a poem made famous in recent years by the film Dead Poet's Society, and the greatest ode ever written for Abraham Lincoln.
"O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack,
the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart!
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; Rise up- for you the flag is flung- for
you the bugle trills . . ."
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