Your "Leaves of Grass," has just been placed in my hands.
You are a dirty fellow; no question about that, but, what is Dirt?
You are a Poet. No question about that, but, what is Poetry?
An enigma to yourself,
knowing no difference between
right and wrong; equally
expressive of each & either,
at times all right and
in the love of it; at times
all wrong, and in the love
of it—a mystery you
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know not where you
Stand! Let me
place you.—
You belong to the Sans-Culottism of Humanity, whose office it is and duty it is, so thoroughly to express Ourselves that we shall ever after be in absolute liberty and free agency wishing to live in the dirt, filth and mire of Sans-Cullottism or arise to the dignity of a life with Christ in the Body of Humanity—
If you can recognize a Brotherhood of Sans-Culottism with yourself in these few things, say so; if not, let it "werk" as the little boy said, but I warn you that, Sans-Culottism to my mind may [illegible] Consequences far beyond your present thought!
Sincerely Geo. W. Christy #9 [illegible] St New Orleans La June 3'/82.—