vs. (dana fucich)

From 1855 to 1860 there is, in a sense, loss of confidence, a sort of humbling.  Whitman guides the reader through "Song of Myself" as might a prophet; knowledgeable and determined.  Even throughout the rest of Leaves of Grass, that sort of enlightenment is still prevalent.  This narrative style appears to be missing in Whitman’s 1860 rendition.  From the first stanza:

“O I wish I could impress others as you and the waves
         have just been impressing me.”

the voice carries timidity that is not present in his 1855 version.  He impressed the reader in the earlier poem, but the roles of reader and narrator are reversed from the beginning of the later work.

Whitman still expresses his adoration for nature, he still merges himself with the ocean and the air, but the significance is lost in revision.  He is constantly contradicting his revelations in “Song of Myself.”

“O I perceive I have not understood anything—not a
         single object—and that no man ever can.”

An obvious opposition to all he “knows” in 1855, which was much more persuasive than this modesty.  He furthers his humbling, stating:

“I NEED no assurances—I am a man who is pre-
         occupied, of his own Soul;

I do not doubt that whatever I know at a given time,
         there waits for me more, which I do not know;”

adding emphasis to a deprivation of knowledge.  The reader feels less taught by this narrator, less swayed by this new voice.  Whitman maintains this reserved narration to the very end, an ending which defy that of “Song of Myself” and the ending of the early Leaves of Grass.

“We must separate—Here! take from my lips this
         kiss,

Whoever you are, I give it especially to you;

So long —and I hope we shall meet again.”

The uncertainty that underlines this conclusion is an obvious adjustment from”

“I depart as air…I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,

I effuse my flesh in eddies and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,

If you want me again look for me under your bootsoles.”

and:

“Great is life..and real and mystical..wherever and whoever,

Great is death….Sure as life hold all parts together, death holds all parts

            together;

Sure as the stars return again after they merge in the light, death is great as life.”

Both early endings present a reassurance to the reader.  There is no separation; Whitman is informing the reader he will always be with them.  He is declaring his knowledge of life and death, reiterating his vast knowledge that is continual throughout the 1855 Leaves of Grass.  There is never a definite “farewell” as seen in the later version; 1855 Whitman would never be absent, he would not leave his reader.