Your letter of July 83 has reached me, & is comforting, as always. I must write you at least a line or two. Don't mind my long silences. My illness has not lifted since I last wrote you, & is still upon me—the last two or three months the bad spells have been frequent & depressing. Yet I keep up, go out a little most every day, & preserve good spirits.
I am cheered & pleased by the friendly & living photographs. You did well to send them to me. I shall keep them by me—look at them often—they do me good.
upa.00016.002_large.jpgI have just sent you a paper. When you write, tell me more about your children—Percy4 & all. Love to them, & to you, dear friend.
Walt WhitmanBefore enveloping my letter, I take a good long, long look at the photographs—with all their silence, cheery & eloquent to me, as I sit here alone by my open window—A vague impressiveness, a thought, not without solemnity—which you must understand without my writing it—comes over me, like a little sun–cloud, this vapory day—& with that, & once again my love, I close.5
Correspondent:
Anne Burrows Gilchrist
(1828–1885) was the author of one of the first significant pieces of
criticism on Leaves of Grass, titled "A Woman's Estimate
of Walt Whitman (From Late Letters by an English Lady to W. M. Rossetti)," The Radical 7 (May 1870), 345–59. Gilchrist's long
correspondence with Whitman indicates that she had fallen in love with the poet
after reading his work; when the pair met in 1876 when she moved to
Philadelphia, Whitman never fully returned her affection, although their
friendship deepened after that meeting. For more information on their
relationship, see Marion Walker Alcaro, "Gilchrist, Anne Burrows (1828–1885)," Walt
Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed. J.R. LeMaster and Donald D. Kummings (New
York: Garland Publishing, 1998).