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Monday, September 2, 2019

Essay example --

Lynn Armstrong Composition II Illustration Essay 11 March, 2014 O Captain! My Captain! Walt Whitman was a 19th century American poet who changed the rules for writing poetry. He is one of my favorite poets because he was bold enough to openly talk about sexuality and same sex couples in his works during a time where such things were looked down upon and even banned. He also aided the nation to understand and face the grief they felt after the loss of a respectable and loved authority figure. With O Captain My Captain, Walt Whitman captures the contrasting duality of the times; both triumphant and mournful in nature. Of all of his colorful, imaginative poems this one in particular resonates with me because the poet's heartbreak is so real and apparent in the poem's somber and pleading tone. This poem begins energetically, in the first couplet although it does not introduce you directly to the subject of the poem. What we know is that a ship commanded by an unnamed captain has come back from a voyage, which has apparently been dreadful. (Terrinino) I can perfectly imagine the ship being meant to symbolize America during the Civil War and the damage caused by it. Also, the prize that was won is obviously the victory of the Civil War. While in the second couplet, "The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:". This passage comes off particularly enjoyable to me because it talks about the men finally coming home from the war and the enthusiasm that awaits them when they get home. It has been a long, perilous journey for the soldiers. I don't have to try to imagine that they are excited about finally being able to be reunited with their families because ... ...es 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, For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! The arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You’ve fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

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