Wednesday, May 29, 2019
Essay example --
Lynn ArmstrongComposition IIIllustration Essay11 March, 2014O headwaiter My tribal chiefWalt 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 sex activity 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 case 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 exulting and mournful in nature. Of all of his colorful, imaginative verse forms this one in particular resonates with me because the poets heartbreak is so real and app atomic number 18nt in the poems 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 un named captain has come behind 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 award 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 truelove 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 dont 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 daringBut O heart heart heartO the bleeding drops of red,Where on the deck my Captain lies, move cold and dead.O Captain my Captain rise up and hear the bellsRise upfor you the flag is flungfor you the bugle trills,For you bouquets and ribbond wreathsfor you the shores a-crowding,For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces actHere Captain dear fatherThe arm beneath your headIt is some dream that on the deck,Youve 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 anchord safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,From fearful wind up the victor ship comes in with object wonExult O shores, and ring O bellsBut I with mournful tread,Walk the deck my Captain lies,Fallen cold and dead.
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