Old Salt Kossabone
Key
| Textual Feature | Appearance |
|---|---|
| Overwritten | brown with strikethrough |
| Added inline | purple with double underline |
| Uncertain | gray with wavy underline |
| Supplied from another source | turquoise with brackets |
| Metamark | |
| Long deletion | gray background with top and bottom border |
[begin leaf 1 recto]
lived with his married grandchild Jenny, House on a hill with view of bay at hand, and
distant cape, and stretch to open sea;) The last of afternoons, the evening hours, for many
a year his regular custom, In his great ^arm‑chair by thefront window
seated,
(sometimes indeed through half the day,) Watching the coming, going of the vessels, he
^mutters to himself—And now the close of all: One struggling ^out‑bound brig one day baffled for long—
cross-tides and much wrong‑going. At last at night-fall strikes the breeze aright,
her whole luck veering, And swiftlyout
on
around
^bending round
the cape, the darkness
proudly entering, cleaving, as he watches, "She's free—she's on hercourse
destination"—these
his
the
last
words—when Jenny came, he sat there dead; Dutch Kossabone, Old Salt, related on my
mother's side, far back. Walt Whitman [begin leaf 1 verso]
Walt Whitman's Autograph & written lines by him: given me by W. W.—in America in 18[88] —Ellen Terry
Old Salt Kossabone.
Far back, related on my mother's side, Old Salt Kossabone, I'll tell you how he died; (Had been a sailor all his life—was nearly 90—lived with his married grandchild Jenny, House on a hill with view of bay at hand, and
distant cape, and stretch to open sea;) The last of afternoons, the evening hours, for many
a year his regular custom, In his great ^arm‑chair by the
(sometimes indeed through half the day,) Watching the coming, going of the vessels, he
^mutters to himself—And now the close of all: One struggling ^out‑bound brig one day baffled for long—
cross-tides and much wrong‑going. At last at night-fall strikes the breeze aright,
her whole luck veering, And swiftly
proudly entering, cleaving, as he watches, "She's free—she's on her
words—when Jenny came, he sat there dead; Dutch Kossabone, Old Salt, related on my
mother's side, far back. Walt Whitman [begin leaf 1 verso]
Walt Whitman's Autograph & written lines by him: given me by W. W.—in America in 18[88] —Ellen Terry