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The first several lines of that poem were revised and published as My Picture-Gallery in The American
pass death with the dying, and birth with the new-washed babe . . . . and am not contained between my
Whitman originally included the poem in his 1891 manuscript for the Good-Bye My Fancy annex to Leaves
included are: As the Time Draws Nigh, Ashes of Soldiers, Years of the Modern, Thoughts, Song at Sunset, My
bv6tex.00067xxx.00380Good-bye My Fancy: Sail out for Good, Eidólon YachtSail out for good, Eidólon yacht1890poetry1
It was reprinted in Good-bye My Fancy (1891).
The clearest relation is to the line: "A minute and a drop of me settle my brain" (1855, p. 33), but
however, physical and thematic similarities with And I have discovered them by night and by, above, and My
It was later published under the title Some Personal and Old-Age Jottings in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891)
which it underwent various changes in content, title, and position until being joined with Now List to My
188uva.00565xxx.00259Hear my fifeBetween 1850 and 1860poetryhandwritten1 leaf8 x 15 cm; Whitman probably
first several lines of Pictures (not including this line) were eventually revised and published as My
(uva.00260) appeared, in revised form, in the poem eventually titled The Sleepers.; uva.00260 Hear my
Bibles i are divine revelations of God But I know say that any each leaf of grass and every hair of my
compiled composed is not august enough to dent endow answer tally a leaf of grass the partition of in my
. / I intend to reach them my hand and make as much of them as I do of men and women" (1855, p. 64).;
It was later reprinted in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891), under the title American National Literature before
White noted a relationship between these pages and the poems Who Learns My Lesson Complete?
. / I intend to reach them my hand and make as much of them as I do of men and women" (1855, p. 64).
See in particular the lines: "The supernatural of no account . . . . myself waiting my time to be one
aim'd at me—like flash of flame Right to my very soul it came.
An infant at that dreary hour, Comes weeping to my silent bower, And wakes me with a piteous prayer,
I, starting, cry, That mak'st my blissful dreams to fly?"
I know him by his bow and dart; (I know him by my fluttering heart:) I take him in—I quickly raise The
(My bosom trembled as he smiled,) I pray thee let me try my bow, For through the rain I've wandered
My situation is rather a pleasant one.
There are many peculiarities in New Orleans that I shall jot down at my leisure in these pages.
My health was most capital; I frequently thought indeed that I felt better than ever before in my life
After changing my boarding house, Jef. and I were, take it altogether, pretty comfortable.
My own pride was touched—and I met their conduct with equal haughtiness on my part.
Think, oh my soul, devoutly think, How, with affrighted eyes, Thou saw'st the wide-extended deep In all
Yet then from all my griefs, on lord!
Thy mercy set me free; Whilst in the confidence of prayer My soul took hold on thee.
My life, if thou preserv'st my life, Thy sacrifice shall be, And death, if death must be my doom Shall
join my soul to thee.
gossiping in the candle light" that resonates with the beginning of the second paragraph of the article My
The entry which begins, "I find this in my notes" (see images 35, 36, and 38) was revised and used in
See in particular the lines: "The supernatural of no account . . . . myself waiting my time to be one
Calamus 18. p 363 City of my walks and joys!
little you h You city : what do y you repay me for my daily walks joys Not these your crowded rows of
delicious athletic love fresh as nature's air and herbage— —offering me full repa respon ds se equal of my
my own, These repay me—Lovers, continual Lovers continu only repay me.— This manuscript is a draft of
City of my walks and joys
A.MS. draft and notes.loc.00273xxx.00263[My hand, my limbs grow nerveless]about 1874poetrypoetryhandwritten1
[My hand, my limbs grow nerveless]
as two—as my soul and I; and I gu reckon it is the same with all oth men and women.— I know that my
trousers around my boots, and my cuffs back from my wrists and go among the rough drivers and boatmen
I tell you just as beautiful to die; For I take my death with the dying And my birth with the new-born
lips, to the palms of my hands, and whatever my hands hold.
hands, and my head my head mocked with a prickly I am here after I remember crucifixion and bloody coronation
I began to feel very much numbed with the cold, and my eyes suffered a good deal from the glare of the
I was now only able to take three steps at a time without stopping, as my legs began to give way, and
I attribute my being able to reach the top to my wind; I never felt want of breath at any time, while
M., with my hands cut to bits, my nails worn to the quick with holding on, I reached the hut and there
One of my eyes is completely 'bunged up,' the other just enables me to see to write this.
when I visited the Asylum and they showed me their most smeared and slobbering idiot, Yet I knew for my
for my consolation, of the great laws that emptied and broke my my brother s Whitman probably drafted
7 196 My touch hand will not hurt what it holds, and yet will devour it, That It must remain whole perfect
Only one minute, only two or three passing bulging sheathed touches, Yet they gather all of me and my
spirit into a knot, They hold us so long enough there, to show us what life we can be,— And that my
senses and our flesh, and even a part of flesh, is seems more than all life.— What has become of my senses
My hand will not hurt
26Come, said my Soul… Proof with signature.loc.00183xxx.00596Come, Said My Soul1881poetryhandwritten1
On verso reads "Copyright 1881, By Walt Whitman, All rights reserved" Come, Said My Soul
/ Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sun-light expands my blood?
/ Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
blood—that if I walk with an arm of theirs around my neck, my soul leaps and laughs like a new-waked
—(Am I loved by them boundlessly because my love for them is more boundless?
truth, my sympathy, and my dignity.
do not procreate like men; all of them and all existing creeds grows not so much of God as I grow in my
moustache, And I am myself waiting my time to be a God; I think I h shall do as much good and be as
pure and prodigious, and do as much good as any; — And when my do, I am, do you suppose it will please
wriggles through the world mankind and hides under helmets and it is not beloved never loved or believed.— My
See in particular the lines: "The supernatural of no account . . . . myself waiting my time to be one
sings as well as I, because although she reads no newspaper; never learned the gamut; And to shake my
The first lines of the notebook poem were revised and published as "My Picture-Gallery" in The American
hun.00021xxx.00596HM 6713'Come said my soul. . .'
[Come, said my Soul]about 1875poetry1 leafhandwritten; A signed draft, heavily revised, of the untitled
'Come said my soul. . .'
When painfully athwart my brain Dark thoughts come crowding on, And, sick of worldly hollowness, My heart
out upon the green I walk, Just ere the close of day, And swift I ween the sight I view Clears all my
I am with you in my soul: I shout—I strike the ball with you— With you I race and roll.— Methinks, white‑winged
Whitman writes about this in the passage Paumanok, and My Life on It as a Child and a Young Man, published
series of lectures & readings &c. through different cities of the north, to supply myself with funds for my
Poem in the 1856 edition of Leaves of Grass: "The best I had done seemed to me blank and suspicious, / My
The lines "I am too great to be a mere President or Major General / I remain with my fellows—with mechanics
fool and the wise thinker" may be related to a similar phrase in the poem eventually titled Who Learns My
—have been out in my wheel chair for a 40 minute open air jaunt (propell'd by WF. my sailor boy nurse
) —& now 4pm Nov. 14 '89 waiting for my supper to be bro't— Transcribed from digital images of the original
122ucb.00014xxx.00812xxx.00814I just spin out my notes[I just spin out my notes]1876–1882prose1 leafhandwritten
[I just spin out my notes]
(Returning to my pages' front once more, resuming all, Songs, sorrows, tragedies, with stalwart joys—O
A glance look —a flashing token of my‑ myself self—to future time.
Returning to my pages' front once
. * shall uncage in my breast a thousand armed great winged broad‑ wide‑winged strengths and unknown
I want that untied tenor, clean and fresh as the Creation, whose vast pure volume floods my soul.
paces and powers, uncage in my heart a thousand new strengths, and unknown ardors and terrible —making
furious than hail hail and lightning. that leap lulling me drowsily with honeyed uncaging waking in my
likely relates to the following lines, from the poem that would be titled "Song of Myself": "I open my
thousands, each one with his entry to himself; They are always watching with their little eyes, from my
head to my feet.
lift put the girder of the earth a globe the house away if it lay between me and whatever I wanted.— My
.— what my touch wanted any thing whatever I wanted.— Surely I am out of my head!
I am lost to myself and someth something else Nature in another form has laid down in my place.
A.MS. draft and notes.loc.00287xxx.00263[All my emprises]about 1874poetryhandwritten1 leaf; A draft of
[All my emprises]
A.MS. draft and notes.loc.00268xxx.00263[Thou knowest my]about 1874poetryhandwritten1 leaf; A draft of
[Thou knowest my]
A.MS. draft and notes.loc.00277xxx.00263[my end draws]about 1874poetryhandwritten1 leaf; A draft of lines
[my end draws]
A.MS. draft and notes.loc.00278xxx.00263[my brain grows rack'd]about 1874poetryhandwritten1 leaf; A draft
[my brain grows rack'd]
17unc.00012xxx.00486Then my mother hastening1883-1888prose1 leafhandwritten; This manuscript contains
Then my mother hastening
My Soul Spirit was curious and sped back to the beginning, sped back returned to the times when the earth
eternally; And devise themselves to this spot place These States and this hour, Again But yet still my
My Spirit sped back to
.— I celebrate myself to celebrate you; every man and woman alive; I transpose my my spirit I pass as
that hear me; I am loosen the voice tongue that was tied in you them In me It begins to talk out of my
A.MS. draft and notes.loc.00281xxx.00263[my altar here the bleak sea-sand]about 1874poetryhandwritten1
[my altar here the bleak sea-sand]
1war and hospital notes and memorandaloc.00373xxx.00118[Farewell my brethren]about 1873poetry1 leafhandwritten
[Farewell my brethren]