The last two weeks of class discussion have made me think long and hard about the changing nature of Whitman’s poetry in his later years. The famous poems that are highlighted in poetry courses include a broad selection of his early works, but very few seem to mention his later verse. I had no idea about Whitman’s years in Camden until I came to this university. And while his late poetry does not have the martial rhyme or political punch of his early writing, the quiet contemplation and appreciation of nature and life is touching.
If Whitman ever had fears about dying, it does not show in his poetry. Even with his debilitating ailments, he only writes about the appreciation of life, never about his struggles with sickness or the fight from day to day. The diminishment of energy is evident in these later works; many of his poems consist only of a few lines, where earlier Whitman could have expanded them into grand poems with scores of lines.
The metaphors that Whitman uses are also far more commonplace. Old age is the night of a long day, or the winter of the seasons of life. His poetry, once full of direct detail and on-the-scene footage now resorts to imagery, metaphor and symbolism in order to catch its effect. It is no surprise that Whitman has turned introspective–the forces he is dealing with now, most of all death, are intangible and largely unknown.
“If Whitman ever had fears about dying, it does not show in his poetry.”
Yes, for example in “Twilight,” in which Whitman anticipates reaching a stage of nirvana when thinking about his approaching death rather than expressing any type of apprehension or regret.
I agree and also appreciate his love of life, even in his last days. And I too, am really enjoying the later poetry.