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I find the My Captain manuscript W. gave me Thursday to contain some variations.

leave you not the little spot, Where on the deck my Captain lies—sleeping pale and dead. O Captain!

FIRST DRAFT MANUSCRIPT OF ONE VERSE OF WHITMAN'S "MY CAPTAIN" My captain does not answer, his lips are

My captain does not answer, his lips are closed and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no

W. quizzed me: "I guess you like this better than My Captain."

Signing name and being named W. said, "I like best my name in full—Walt Whitman—not Whitman alone nor

My fair correspondent feels that this vocable meets a long felt want in our much-lacking language.

There was "The Burial Hymn of Lincoln," "Captain, Oh, My Captain," so praised by Swinburne.

He makes my head ache." "But even the Captain?" "I have never read it."

Seeking out Whitman's books I copied "Captain, Oh, My Captain," with the pious purpose of reclaiming

The Captain—what is his name?

there comes Captain'"—here W. stopped—"Oh!

the Captain of The Three Bells—what was his name—what was his name?

Then he went on: "Anyhow, Captain Brace turned to me, called: 'By God! there comes Captain Gibson!'

My notes show for a week and more past his own dwelling upon the subject.

"I quite understand that it is my business to watch my own dunghill."

November Boughs is my final word—my closing up thought.

W. commented in this way: "I'm honest when I say, damn My Captain and all the My Captains in my book!

A whole volume of My Captains instead of a scrap-basket!

I say that if I'd written a whole volume of My Captains I'd deserve to be spanked and sent to bed with

"I will give my ultimate in the morning—wait till then!"

On the 14th I always read the Lincoln poem and the description of the murder aloud to my grandchildren.Greet

place beside the three or four great death-chants of the English tongue; while his shorter poem, "Captain

, my Captain," which he will also read, is a pathetic tribute to the same noble name.

Why, my boy, I didn't hear you at all!" He looked at my burden. "And what have you there?

I remember one of my last talks with Emerson.

, my Captain!

He saw my blank face.

Gave me a couple of sheets of manuscript containing original draft of My Captain.

But my remembrance of her all centers about New York.

Now, in our new book, I try in my Hicks to confirm another item of my triple oath.

I hope if my Paine piece is little it's also O hell."

My hesitations make me think of a story.

'Captain, here's the preface!' 'Is that the preface?'

Gilchrist was examining a copy of my entrance. W. asked me: "Well, Horace—what's the news?"

My sympathies are all against him."

Brinton refrains from stating himself positively, I notice—writes somewhat in the Captain Cuttle vein—of

Captain Cuttle, who said"—here W. assumed a voice and position of vehemence—"if the ship comes safely

This replying to my question if such a language would not be developed.

W. asked about it—then, to my remark that C.Carpenter had no striking literary gifts, was acquiescent—adding

The thought occurs to me that if you would all like it, I would come over that night and read my Lincoln

address—read on that 'My Captain.'

"The Captain sails away for Baltimore today, don't he?

he asked, after a pause, and to my "nothing" he added: "nor have I anything.

My mail was small enough: a letter from Bucke—a short one—in which he says his two brothers are still

As I had—my engagement being for tomorrow afternoon.

I did not prolong my stay. W. not in good talking mood. In such cases I never linger.

over before he went to bed, and "leave out in the hall," so I could secure it early in the morning, on my

He minds me most often of a captain—a great captain—chosen for a tempestuous voyage—everything against

It was from him I learned many of my best things about Lincoln.

It was a flash out of heaven: the man was a hero to me at once: I was enthusiastic over my discovery.

It was typical of the common soldier—not uncommon in any sense: my experience has been full of just such

Symonds' piece reminded me, reminds me, of Captain Cuttle—the queer Captain Cuttle."

"The Captain would say in his own inimitable style: 'If the ship has gone down then she has gone down—if

My hope is, as the boys say, that it 'gets its roots in': you have heard that expression, eh?

My friends could never understand me, that I would start out so evidently without design for nowhere

"All my life here," he said, "is made up of pathetically little things: yet I don't know but all life

But however, my view will be extreme.

The show of autobiography everywhere in my work."

But it is my vein, and I must flow in it. All my work is set on the same plane—no other.

" (from the Independent) and his comment upon W. was this:In some cases, as in Whitman's O Captain, My

They are not in my line—my habit, anyway." Tuesday, November 11, 1890

That is queer—it is one of my favorite stories—one of the very richest I know.

The failure to rhyme, I mean, for the poem itself—"O Captain! my Captain!"

But to read my own pieces!

W. greatly amused at my story of getting the Doctor's glasses.

I took off my hat—sat there unperturbed.

"My father was booked in all those things—took a great caper at all the progressive fellows.

A death in my sister's family (today) will require my devotion, etc., for a few days.

To my description of the first glimpse of the Capitol: "Yes, it is grand—vast: it sits so proudly on

Attorney General Speed.Sir: I notice that it is the intention of holding Captain Wirz responsible for

I was nearly eleven months held there as a prisoner and I know that Captain Wirz was uniformly kind to

Had written Bucke, gave me the letter to mail, along with papers for Captain Rayner and Gilchrist, postal

W. asked me about the reception to the Missouri's Captain in Philadelphia Maritime Exchange at noon today

And my man I told you about yesterday, he was a bonnie Scotchman.

"Did I ever tell you of D'Avezac, my old French friend there in New York?

Then: "And I have had wonderful good luck anyhow in my life to have met a number of such originals—not

There was Flynn, too, my Irish friend"—spelled his name, also.

Wallace seems to have entered fully into the life there—indeed is hustling too much for my taste.

I feel as if to send something, testifying to my gratitude for the extra sheets."

Captain Noell (British Prince) has written W. his regrets, that he could not get over to say his farewell

living here) who had brought a request from someone in Bridgeport, Conn. that W. should transcribe "My

Captain" for hanging in a lodge room there.

W. much amused at my detailing my letter to Woodbury, so far gone unanswered. W. exclaimed, "Pain!

nut-brown girl—an English girl—right off the prairies" who "came here the other day—bought some of my

But I could not see her—it was one of my bad days. She was quite young, a mere girl.

W. writing a note to Harper Brothers who have asked permission to print My Captain in their Fifth Reader

Said to me: "It's My Captain again: always My Captain: the school readers have got along as far as that

My God! when will they listen to me for whole and good?

"I wrote Bucke of my fearful inertia: that inertia is my worst failing now: I told him I could not explain

[pencil] And you O my Soul?

W. assented, "That is true—I have had my experience of them."

My phrases would have been, original liars and intending liars—which is not so good."

word of truth in it, yet necessary to be asserted again and again—like the 'give-em-some-more-shot, Captain

My only ambition has been to not contradict—break—in 'Good-Bye' any of the great foundation laid in the

has been in stress and strain for several days over the serious illness of Warren's grandfather, Captain

Captain Williams, assistant secretary, said that he had not heard anything about such an application.Several

For once I was there, with my Lincoln lecture."

Yes, I think I shall try my hand at it."

I remember a farce, when I was a young man, theatre-going—'The Captain's not a-Miss'—not a bad pun, as

"If anybody asks you give them my love: tell them I feel better to-daytoday than I have felt any day

He gave me a letter which I did n'tdidn't read at the moment but put into my pocket and found on the

"The great party of those days was the Know-Nothing party: it was rather before my time that they were

Dear Walt Whitman:I have received your book and Ms. and send, with my hearty thanks, a New York check

My Captain! I want to learn it to speak in school."

This is a safer place for me—this little town, this little room, my own bed and chair."

reading Gladstone's reply to Ingersoll—"It is a great weariness—but I stuck to it, thinking it probably my

Its protestations seem to me a sort of Captain Cuttle business—the 'yes I do,' 'no I don't,' 'perhaps

Horace Traubel, a personal friend of mine, the same as you would with me, and consider him as my fully

last cent—at least you'll get it: I am no good anymore, that way speaking: I am tied down here fast to my

W. said Captain Noell had been in with the blanket.Read him the several additional notes I had received

had been much better today—and after I had entered his room and he had offered his big hand—clasped my

I raised my eyes—was it his sister? Something to outwit this scoundrel in Burlington?

This simply crossed my mind—I made no mention of it.

I was on my way to Thomas concert tonight. Campanini to sing.

It is loyal, generous, correct, and true, and doesn't labor to prove that "My Captain" is the best of

As to what should be the nature of the flap—"I am unable to make up my mind.

Of course I am always glad to see my friends. It is to my interest to put my best foot forward.

I think some of my friends imagine that my condition bites—that I feel the bite of poverty, inattention

I explained my talk with Oldach today.

It used to be my delight to get the youngsters, the very young ones, take them in my arms, walk them—often

s on my way home, at 5.15.

W. exclaimed on my repeating it—"Oh! damn Higginson!"

it is here—in my pocket"—clapping his hand there.

"They are too strong for my old sight."

After he had finished the address, he read "O Captain!"

She said: "Oh, I haven't paid my visit: now I'll say goodnight: I'll not see you again tonight."

Morse went on: "But I shall take them to the Art Institute when I go—my lecture is postponed on account

The police captains kicked vigorously against that judge's decision, but have finally quieted down."

"I may write something with it as my text."

Better than my other books?' 'Oh, much better,' and he named the figures.

And I intended writing Tom a little note about it—to give him my thanks."

But say, also, that my friends hardly understand—some of them—the real severity of my bladder trouble

I have had to revise several of my notions about photos.

But, Horace, the picture attracts me—puts blood into my old corpus!"

And oysters are my dish. Think of them—their best specimens!

I kissed W. my congratulations. He was very fine about it.

Weda Cook sang a My Captain song of her own composition.

W. addressed Weda Cook: "My dear—who taught you to sing?"

W. was very warm towards Harned and his wife, my sister.

W. to me: "My love is anybody's love today."

s on my way to the city. All well there. W. and Ed sleeping. Ed had not gone to bed till one.

On my entrance he had taken my hand, I resisting a little, and objecting: "It is cold: I have just come

"My personal cleanliness—the washedness—so bad has been my state, has for the present to be post-poned

W. held my hand a long time to-nighttonight as I said my "good-bye" and was about to start off.

I have such a good bed,—and my stove does very well—it is a little bit out of the way in location—My

So I insisted on my refusal. Till then he would not start.

living and writing and sleeping place (has been likened to some big old cabin for a kinky sailor-captain

HIS FAREWELL ENGAGEMENT "I will then gather all my work of the last three years in verse and make my

I publish my own books and have done so ever since my first little volume entitled, 'Leaves of Grass'

Give my love to Mr. Morris.

—finally making contract in my name, Morris witnessing.

I do not wish to appear, but my friends, who know my ways, will readily see who it is from."

W. then added, addressing me: "Why do they all set to and curl my hair?

often my own price sent them with the piece.

I did not send them, of course—it is not my practice.

I did years ago do that thing for John Hay: copied My Captain for him: he paid me handsomely for it.

He saw the hat in my hand—thought I was impatient to go. I said: "You bet!"

"I am inert, feeble, borne down with lassitude—my head being sore and sick: but there has been no recurrence

—I am not so sure of it, my hearty.

"I always designate my price when I submit a piece: it is far the simplest way: I make my own valuations

lines—a touch)—that was a mere thumb-nail, a hint—yet I named my sum and got it."

Alexander Dumas to write my memoirs from.

Spoke of Gilchrist's life of his mother: "You should read it—read my copy: Karl Knortz has it now, but

It's my secret until the next fellow catches on by himself—then it's his secret, too.

why I like or don't like but I am quite firm in my preferences."

Well—give him my love—tell him I have all sorts of faith in his success.

Some of them say my face there has a rogue in it. O'Connor called it my sea-captain face.

"I mean counted my pulse, questioned me—went through all the technicalities: but—!"

When I said: "Should you ever need a Secretary, let me serve," he fervently responded: "Bless you, my

Captain: Could you give me a little further information about my brother Capt. George W.

—Was my brother really well & hearty—was Lieut. Sam'l Pooley, 51st N.Y. there, & how was he?

—Do you know whether my brother got letters & boxes we sent him?

Then of my trip. Always brightens up when so humored.

He said to-nighttonight playfully: "You must always answer my questions even though I don't always answer

I said: "You don't answer my questions—that 'sthat's true.

Every day or night I spend four five or six hours among my sick, wounded, prostrate, boys.

Some of my boys get well, some die.

"Yes: that seems to be my life: from the bed to the chair: back to the bed again.

to which he said at once: "I'm never in fact conscious of it: I've never been so bad but my sickness

Eldridge thinks that my publishers are dealing honestly with me.

When one of my books was published they sold the first six months 733 copies.

"I was hoping I'd put my hand on something more significant.

My whole day full of business and anxiety. Brinton startled at the knowledge I gave him.

"No, but I cannot give up my fears and convictions either."

George Whitman, who was just going at the time of my entrance.) W. had told Mrs.

To Longaker he had said, "Doctor, you always have the bad luck to catch me at my worst.

My mouth, jaw, tongue are sore from the amount of medicine I have taken."

And emotionally, at least, he accepts me—accepts my book."

commenced to write a postal, asking who was responsible for it—for somehow I felt as if I owed him my

He will take my O'Connor picture, reproduce it there.

And, Horace, you must be my tale-bearer, to bring me an account of it all tomorrow.

My love to Brinton—give him my love—and tell him to come over."

It is indeed to these mostly my habits are adjusted. I have good health.

My dismissal from employment in 1865, by the Secretary of the Interior, Mr.

Nothing in my life, or my literary fortunes, has brought me more comfort and support every way—nothing

to Ellis and Green, of London, to publish my poems complete and verbatim.

And he has a companion in that: my dear enemy Dick: Richard Henry Stoddard.

I had Tolstoy's My Confession with me. I gave it to him.

He rose from the bed—went to the chair with my assistance.

"I have had the books—or my mother—I think since '41-nearly fifty years.

In the final sense they are not records of my life—of my personal life—of Walt Whitman—but scripture

To have had my book and my cause fall into his hands, in London, in the way they have, I consider one

Some words, all of us, with Captain Noell, who said, "This is possibly my last trip."

I suppose we remained three-quarters of an hour after my arrival.

Primeval my love)First Movement.

My eye never quite even tolerates the old form.

Showed him a few of my Whitman possessions, but no time to go into them.

"It clogs up my head." The temperature had taken a big drop in the night.

Years ago Osgood or Houghton used My Captain in one of their readers: it was a terrible affliction, almost

"Oh my! I never thought I was so subtle!"

"You must try to be patient with my snail-like processes," he said.

["My God! that's true!

stirs my curiosity—makes me wonder how far I survived in his good graces.

I reminded W. of Captain Lindell's wife, who suffered similarly. W.

oh my yes!" "I wondered: I wondered."

all the people who really know me, my work, consider, include, love, admire, William.

"Good: that's it: my soul won't let me. That's the way we have to keep up the balance."

Some of them say my face there has a rogue in it. O'Connor called it my sea-captain face.

W. commented in this way: "I'm honest when I say, damn My Captain and all the My Captains in my book!

, my Captain!

FIRST DRAFT MANUSCRIPT OF ONE VERSE OF WHITMAN'S "MY CAPTAIN" My captain does not answer, his lips are

My captain does not answer, his lips are closed and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no