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My dear Poet, Walt Whitman.

Possibly my answer to Mr.

In case of the latter, I should have been glad had he thought my name worthy of mention as a friend.

Comes to my mind as I think of the hour When our poet and friends will be lovingly drinking The mystical

But, though absent in body, there's nothing can hinder My tasting the joys of that festive birthday;

Had my breakfast & relish'd it—three or four hot stew'd oysters, a stout slice of toasted Graham bread

, & a mug of coffee— My housekeeper Mrs: Davis is compell'd to be temporarily absent these two days &

Ed my nurse gets my breakfast & gets it very well.

often bless the Lord & congratulate myself that things are as well with me as they are—that I retain my

mentality intact—that I have put my literary stuff in final form—that I have a few (but sufficient)

Dear & honoured Friend & Master I thank you from my heart for the gift of your great book—that beautiful

But my heart has not the power to make my brain & hands tell you how much I thank you.

I cannot even attempt to tell yourself (upon this page of paper with this pen in my hand), what it is

If my health, riven to the bottom like a tree in me, twelve years ago,—& the cares of a family, complicated

reliance on you, & my hope that you will not disapprove of my conduct in the last resort.

of fresh air, have since had a cup of tea and a piece of dry toast and am now (630 P.M.) sitting at my

desk in my office at the Asylum.

Sometimes as I read it I feel as if my whole previous life were rolling en masse through me and as if

Tomorrow I give my 7 th lecture to the students—one more will end the course for this year.

We are all well I send you my best love R M Bucke Richard Maurice Bucke to Walt Whitman, 8 December 1889

Camden Monday 9 A M '89 Am sitting here just ended my breakfast, an egg, some Graham bread & coffee—all

wh' I relish'd—rec'd my morning mail, & send you this f'm Dr B —with my scribbling on back—fine sunny

hours down to the Delaware shore, high water)—sky & river never look'd finer—was out also at one p m to my

bottle of champagne—(lunch, or dinner, but I ate nothing)—So you see I am getting around sort o' in my

summer—I want to get out somewhere (sea side or mountains) but it is a fearful job for me to be moved from my

like to read—(T B Aldrich's also tho' short is very friendly & eulogistic—not sent here)— Nothing in my

, I have had a notion for, & now put out partly to occupy myself, & partly to commemorate finishing my

For the regard, the affection, which convoyed your noble argosy to this my haven,—believe me, my dear

Well: there is too much taking off of hats, but I certainly should doff my own to the Sun-God.

Pray give my kind regards to M. Traubel. Walt Whitman to William Sloane Kennedy, William D.

But in any case after you get this letter, my address will be care of my nephew in Boston which I will

I shall make a few short stops with nieces & others till I return home, & as my nephew is a fixture,

But I try to keep up a good heart, & not to worry my friends with my troubles.

I have one hope that I am clinging to, and that is that my sister Mrs. Channing may come on.

I send my address on the enclosed slip. With love always— Nelly O'Connor.

May 11 / 89 Dear Walt: Yesterday on my way up to Olive to see my wife's father, who is near the end of

for some time, yet it was a stunning blow for all that I know how keenly you must feel it, & you have my

No words come to my pen adequate to express the sense of the loss we have we suffered in the death of

Drop me a line my dear friend if you are able to do so.

This sense forbids my taking up the pen carelessly to intrude upon your attention. I. Mr. H.H.

I came to grasp it; my humility to God, my esteem to you.

to my work as a composer.

Intention must befriend me or my chance must fall.

In the first, I send you a copy of this work, I have perforce of my religious perception, vested the

every week or month a button or peg gives out—most of the time mildly—but I realize it well enough—my

dulling)—warmth shaded a little to-day & cloudy any how—ate a rare egg & some Graham bread & coffee for my

—I hope to resume practice in the state, some time in the future, when I have paid my debts and saved

My mother is still living in Boston at the age of 75, well and hearty.

—God bless you my old and long tried friend—"With fond affection and recollection.

Louis Nov. 10 th My Dear Uncle Walt, I have been thinking about you so much lately, that I am going to

I am still at my old quarters and will remain for this Winter, after that is as yet an unsettled problem

was an admirer of the former, I think even more of him, for the good taste in thinking so much of "my

Traubel, With Walt Whitman in Camden, Thursday, September 12, 1889 and Saturday, September 14, 1889: "My

My great regret is that with his magnificent abilities he should have done so comparatively little to

It is postmarked: London | PM | MY 13 | 89 | Canada; Camden, N.J. | May | 15 | 30 PM | 1889 | Rec'd.

Your card of the 24th came two days ago, not a little to my relief.

Whitman: "Because you have, as it were, given me a ground for the love of men I thank you continually in my

June 9 '89 Lou, I rec'd the aspargus, strawberries &c, by Charley—have had some of the a[sparagus] for my

least either on the right or left side) with a button at top—I am so in the habit of carrying things in my

dull here muchly—I am sitting up in the 2d story room alone—door & windows open—Did you or George get my

Whitman noted that Louisa "bro't my new blue gown" on June 11, 1889 (The Commonplace-Book, Charles E.

10 th 89 O Good Gray Poet, When I read the notes on your life made by Ernest Rhys the tears came to my

feeling of the boundlessness of the universe, of the greatness of a man—perhaps, only perhaps, it may be my

glory to help others to "justify" your work; it surely is my heart's desire.

My excuse for writing you is the sending of a book; a first utterance, called "Voices & Undertones"—it

Belmont Sept 15 '89 (Sunday afternoon) Dear Walt:— I never meant my last poor postal to be the answer

to write the bk I told you of, I must bore you with a letter—just to say how'd'e, & to tell you that my

staunch little dame, my brave frau kin is going to make a little visiting tour, & will some day make

for my freedom! [Here I cut a caper] Now for six weeks of thought . I wrote to F.

My gloire di Dijon rose has grown 12 feet high in many rigorous shoots.

London To 2 d March '89 My dear Walt Whitman, During the past day or two I have been arranging your portraits

between the lines, feeling all the time as if I can still see you in your great arm-chair—as during my

It is this impression that I must try to convey as far as may be in my article in the S. A.

So my instinct for life & the open road grows stronger every day. "Right Jack Health!"

I believe I told you that my sister Edith was with me here.

Camden April 17 '89 A heavy saturated leaden day—& my condition ab't the same.

N[elly]'s card came yesterday—my best prayers for more mark'd improvement—I have just sent off books

bo't in England—one Dr B[ucke]'s book specially sent for —I have just finished my supper:dinner.

This would be my notion of the volume, as a , if I knew nothing of its author—of its "only begetter."

For the regard, the affection, which convoyed your noble argosy to this my haven,—believe me, my dear

He reported you as saying that I wouldn't take off my hat to Apollo, if we sh d happen to meet.

Well: there is too much taking off of hats, but I certainly should doff my own to the Sun-God.

Pray give my kind regards to M. Traubel. Edmund Clarence Stedman to Walt Whitman, 27 March 1889

Belmont Mass Oct 3. 89 Dear Old Quaker Friend of the horse-taming sea kings of Long Island: My thorn

He drew those pictures of yr home for my book; but takes the blackguard view of you.

My dame laid him out flat after calling on you. She can do such things, is keen as steel.

White's pitiful parody of L of G. in my face & thot he had floord me, he said he ahd heard that Edwin

I have to do it for my writings now.

for there is nothing to write ab't—only the fact of writing to you if that is anything—Here I am in my

den as for a year & a half, but not so much different or given out yet—My sleeping & appetite yet hold

fair—you know I am along now in my 71st— Love to you all— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to Mary Whitall

walk with God in the dark, Than go alone in the light; I would rather walk with him by faith Than pick my

"After the dazzle of day is gone, Only the dark, dark night shows to my eyes the stars; After the clangor

of organ majestic, or chorus, or perfect band, Silent, athwart my soul, moves the symphony true" Thomas

evn'g as usual (always welcome)—he is well—is a clerk in a bank in Phila—Am sitting at present alone in my

I enclose one of my late circulars as it may have a wisp of interest to you.

Robert Browning (1812–1889), known for his dramatic monologues, including "Porphyria's Lover" and "My

volumes of Horace Traubel's With Walt Whitman in Camden (various publishers: 1906–1996) and Whitman's "My

furnished me by the printer after all, & I will send you 15 copies —The cards in the little envelope are my

Tom H. comes every day—my brother George also—my sister Lou has just visited me this mn'g—Y'r letter

treatment applied to himself—it is autobiographic of course—pathologic— It grows cloudy & cooler—have had my

America Nothing very new or different, Alys comes often & is as welcomed as sunshine—I am sitting here in my

den as ever—dark & rainy to-day & yesterday—My Canadian nurse & friend has left me—(he had a good chance

along better than you might imagine—a bad physical brain probably catarrhal—& hopeless locomotion—are my

I have abt 10 minutes a day to my self!

Wilson has my MS now. Am going to take a vacation in a month.

Do drop me a line dear & revered papa, & relieve my anxiety abt you. W. S. Kennedy.

Phil Pa Sept 15 89 My Dear Walt Whitman I met with a dreadful accident several weeks ago, and so could

money is in Drexels Bank, and as soon as I can go to town I will have it sent to you—I write this with my

left hand as my right arm is useless. $50. 00 of the money is from Henry Irving and $25. from Bram Stoker

Traubel has read my letter to you, I presume. My essay on you and my translation of "D.

Am still laid up here by disablement and paralysis—am confined entirely to my room and mostly to my chair

My dear friend O'Connor is very ill at Washington.

substantial volume—not that I am overwhelmed or even entirely satisfied by it, but as I had not put my

I had to come back to look after my farm. The heavy rains came near washing it away.

I & my man live alone in the old house, I am chief cook & bottle washer I keep well & busy, & am not

In a couple of weeks my grapes will be all off (only 1/2 crop this year) & I shall take another holiday

I wish you were here to enjoy this view, & this air, & also my grapes & peaches. Drop me a card.

Who said when I invited him to hear my lecture upon your work—"I shall come by all means.

I gave two evenings to your work before my class at New England Conservatory.

My class is composed of about fifty bright young girls studying music.

I shall have "Specimen Days" in my class during Spring term.

Toward sunset Had a good thorough bath this afternoon, hot water—my "cold" has not altogether withdrawn—I

day—I almost envy your having such lots to do, responsibilities & strong & well & energetic to do 'em—My

lassitude is one of the worst points in my condition—but whether Sidney Morse's man's answer (when reproach'd

probably say)—Well I will adjust myself for dinner, & hope you & Mrs B & all are having good times—& send my

—However, with all my deep chagrin, I c but laugh (long & well), over little Stedman & Holmes (I suppose

You say in it "as to my alleged opinion of Stedman: I have no such opinion.

My feeling toward S. is one of good will & thanks markedly—O'C says he is a good fellow, & I say so too

Stedman w never forgive my trying to comfort him . Ha! ha!

I think I shall now pitch overboard fr my book the Hartmannian lading (supplement) entirely.

time fanning away the flies &c—not down ill but not far from that—some blackberries & a rare egg for my

breakfast— Sunset —Have had my supper & relish'd it—send this hence Camden (to Phila) 8 P M July 13—

July 12, 89 Dear Walt, I write you briefly this morning before starting on my 2 week vacation to Delaware

At that time I was having one of my streaks of insomnia, & was very wretched for two or three weeks.

I go about all day with two balls of twine at my side, training the young vines in the way they should

Camden April 14 '89 Fine sunny weather—nothing special in my health—(if any difference am suffering less

My dear friend, I was glad to hear by your postal that you are getting along without an increase of suffering

My old enemy "melancholia" spreads its vampire wings still over my life and will I presume go with me

Gardner of Paisley, accepting my MS. "Walt Whitman the Poet of Humanity."

suppose his idea is that people will buy L. of G. more if they are not given the passages in question in my

. [—] I send you today a copy of my Annual report, after you have looked it over let Horace have it—I

I am well, getting a good rest since my return home, sleep about 10 hours a night right along.

read some of Brown's books if not all of them. [—] A gloomy but pleasant afternoon here as I sit at my

desk in my office and look out the window, roads very sloppy with the melting snow.

./89 My dear Mr Whitman Among other precious things from Camden which greeted me this morning is the

And now our summer "loaf" is over, & glad I am of it, for loafing does not agree either with my health

Accept my dear Mr Whitman the assurances of our sincerest affection.

Traubel, With Walt Whitman in Camden, Friday, September 13, 1889 and Saturday, September 14, 1889: "My

I have been in Camden once or twice & should have called to see you but thought perhaps my comeing coming

Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to

Camden April 16 '89 Cloudy raw weather—(may be part of my glum condition)—No word from O'C[onnor] now

It may seem ungracious . . . to say so (for Dick is my friend and means me well) but his piece impresses

important cases and good fees on prospect I was unable to realize the cash proceeds; so I applied and got my

—I hope to resume practice in this state, some time in the future, when I have paid my debts and saved

My mother is still living in Boston at the age of 75, well and hearty.

I hope you are fairly comfortable—God bless you my old and long tried friend— "With fond affection and

My life now seems very pale & poor compared with those days.

which I derive any satisfaction, Julian & that bit of land up there on the river bank where I indulge my

is developing into a very happy, intelligent boy, full of enthusiasms, full of curiosity, & is about my

I hope I can see my way to go to W again to see him. I shall not stay here in P. much longer.

My dear Poet: I spent last evening in fighting for you, in reading you, and, in a feeble way, expounding

up the balance, and that moreover, adulation would as soon turn the head of Moosilanke Moosilauke , my

My friend Baxter sent us his copy of your big book with notes, one or two, from you, pasted in.

I send you my heartiest wishes for the prolongation of your noble life in content and in as great a measure

Give my love to Dr. B.

My Dear W Whitman, Yr letter & papers both rec'd with thanks.

My article is scientific , I even reverently analyze Shakespeare's technique & prove that he inclined

I had been reserving this piece of work until I moved into my new house.

I sent my article on poetry to the Century. They ordered an article on E.E. Hale, wh.

Bliss , rectory Episcopal church—he expressed great sympathy for me; in my straitend circumstances, and

placed a 5 dollar bill, in my hand, as he has done once before, this winter, which got me 1/2 ton of

I would much rather paint, could I sell my pictures.

Dear Walt— Just a line as you have been much in my thoughts lately.

Sharpe, my old harper friend that I told you of, died a few days ago—"very quiet & gentle" says his son

The Money Order is sent in my name. Edward Carpenter to Walt Whitman, 13 January [1889]

I go now & get a wrap up: I have not given up, & never shall the pub. of my apotheosis of W.W.

It just meets my ideal. A book is doubled in value by pocket-form. My cousin has gone.

I am sorry to tell you that after all my careful economy & saving, the various things into which William

But I have been trying my best to put into order; but must soon drop all & go for a time, or I shall

If ever the people that owe money to William would pay me, I should not be so worried about my daily

It is like taking my life to have to give up a home with no prospect of ever having one again.

So I said, I will keep you informed of my whereabouts. & with love always— Nelly O'Connor. Ellen M.

My dear Sir.

think of you, and I am sure that it affords me much more than that to give this personal expression to my

say entirely my own way, and put it unerringly on record."

In another place the feeling of pride leads to this exclamation: "My Book and I—what a period we have

These snowy hairs, my feeble arm, my frozen feet, For them thy faith, thy role I take, and grave it to

Whitman referred to Rossetti's edition as a "horrible dismemberment of my book" in his August 12, 1871

328 Mickle Street Camden New Jersey March 31 '89 Thanks, my dear E C S, for the box of noble books with

for the loving cheering (I fear flattering) long letter, wh' has done me good, & I have read twice—My

I wish to convey my best regards to the printers, proof-readers & print-plate presser &c — I have been