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  • Letters / Correspondence 5

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  • 1840 5
Search : of captain, my captain!
Sub Section : Letters / Correspondence
Year : 1840

5 results

Walt Whitman to Abraham Paul Leech, 26 August [1840]

  • Date: August 26, [1840]
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

—Excuse the naturality of my metaphor.— Speaking of "naturality" reminds me of the peculiarities that

My period of purgation is almost up in these diggins.—Thank the pitying fates!

in two weeks more I shall wind up my affairs, and with tears in my eyes bid a sorrowful adieu to these

My heart swells, and my melting soul almost expires with the agonising idea.

—Luckily for my self-complacency they are mostly whigs.

Walt Whitman to Abraham Paul Leech, 11 August [1840]

  • Date: August 11, [1840]
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

My friend, Why the dickins didn't you come out to the whig meeting at the court house, last Saturday

—The awful occasion impressed indeliby upon my memory every agonising moment of that infernal excursion

skin is even now peeling, and four mortal pounds of flesh which ran off in a state of dilution from my

lumps of red hot fire—not a tree not a shed to shelter us from the intolerable glare.— I gave you in my

last some account of my first "huckleberry frolick," but this beats it all hollow.

Walt Whitman to Abraham Paul Leech, 9 September [1840]

  • Date: September 9, [1840]
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

My dear L— I perform the thrice-agreeable office of informing you that my purgatory here is just finishing

At present I think it improbable that I shall pay any visit to Jamaica, though I should like to see my

"— —"O. how my spirit springs and grows elastick at the idea of leaving this diabolical, and most p articularly

Walt Whitman to Abraham Paul Leech, 30 July [1840]

  • Date: July 30, [1840]
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

Woodbury Thursday July 30 My friend I feel but little in the humour for writing any thing that will have

live here ten hours he would fret himself to death: I have heard the words "thank you," but once since my

—It was fun no doubt, but it cost me two mortal pounds of flesh, besides numerous remnants of my apparrel

a miserable kind of a dog: I am sick of wearing away by inches, and spending the fairest portion of my

—I pray the fates he may rid me of my spleen ere long W. W. Abrahan P. Leech | Jamaica L.I.

Walt Whitman to Abraham Paul Leech, 19 August [1840]

  • Date: August 19 [1840]
  • Creator(s): Walt Whitman
Text:

—That this earthly habitation, is a place of torment to my miserable self, is made painfully evident

—you do not know, my friend, nor can you conceive, the horrid dulness of this place.

—And as avocations of this nature never met my fancy in any great degree, you may easily imagine what

O, ye gods, press me not too far—pour not my cup too full—or I know what I shall do.

—Dire and dreadful thoughts have lately been floating through my brain.

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