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It tickles my diaphragm to see you run huge subsoil prairie plough so deep down under the feet of the
My heart, at least, swells with gladness & pride on account of honors this winter.
I can't for my poor self at any rate.
I wish to see my benefactor, and have felt much like striking my tasks and visiting New York to pay you
my respects.
The air tastes good to my palate.
Was't charged against my chants they had forgotten art?
Another song on the death of Lincoln, "Oh Captain! My Captain!"
invitation to write an article on Longfellow for the World —but I shall have to decline—I cannot get my
forthcoming number of the N A North American Review for February, in which I have ventilated some of my
when we meet, Tom—but some six weeks ago was careless enough to get badly chill'd chilled all through my
My great loafing place out there is a big old woods, mostly pine & oak, but lots of laurel & holly, old
Broadway New York from the top of an omnibus—at other times along the seashore at Coney Island)— Tom, my
filled & I must close—I wanted to write something about the running & matches, but must postpone it—Give my
love to all my friends there & you yourself, dear boy— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to Thomas Nicholson
431 Stevens Street Camden New Jersey Dec 21 '81 My dear W S K Yours rec'd received & glad to hear from
L of G—have just sent you a package by express of the late & other editions & Vols. of poems &c. as my
in the Feinberg Collection, Whitman wrote in 1886 or 1888: "Have had this little Vol. at hand or in my
Rand & Avery's Monday noon Sept: September 5 '81 My dear friend Although it is abominable for me to back
431 Stevens Street Camden New Jersey Feb: 20 '81 My dear Mr Longfellow A friend in Canada—to whom I am
431 Stevens Street Camden New Jersey May 8 '81 My dear Mr Osgood I write in answer to the note on the
other side from my dear friend O'Reilly —My plan is to have all my poems, down to date, comprised in
silent thoughts of God, & death—& not at all in what he says , nor in Sunday or prayer meeting gas —My
compliance with your request in letter of 28th I this day send you by mail to same address as this card my
Let me have my own way, Let others promulge the laws, I will make no account of the laws, Let others
I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies, as I myself do,
indifferent, but trembling with age and your unheal'd wounds you mounted the scaffold;) I would sing in my
, and singled you out with attachment;) Nor forget I to sing of the wonder, the ship as she swam up my
bay, Well-shaped and stately the Great Eastern swam up my bay, she was 600 feet long, Her moving swiftly
WITH ANTECEDENTS. 1 WITH antecedents, With my fathers and mothers and the accumulations of past ages,
to-day and America could no-how be better than they are. 3 In the name of these States and in your and my
name, the Past, And in the name of these States and in your and my name, the Present time.
salutes, When the fire-flashing guns have fully alerted me, and heaven- clouds heaven-clouds canopy my
To us, my city, Where our tall-topt marble and iron beauties range on opposite sides, to walk in the
See my cantabile!
, I chant the world on my Western sea, I chant copious the islands beyond, thick as stars in the sky,
sail-ships and steam-ships threading the archipelagoes, My stars and stripes fluttering in the wind,
do I not see my love fluttering out among the breakers?
Loud I call to you, my love!
who I am, my love.
Hither my love! Here I am! here!
But my mate no more, no more with me! We two together no more.
Fascinated, my eyes reverting from the south, dropt, to follow those slender windrows, Chaff, straw,
O baffled, balk'd, bent to the very earth, Oppress'd with myself that I have dared to open my mouth,
whose echoes recoil upon me I have not once had the least idea who or what I am, But that before all my
sight of the sea taking advantage of me to dart upon me and sting me, Because I have dared to open my
Me and mine, loose windrows, little corpses, Froth, snowy white, and bubbles, (See, from my dead lips
That sport'st amid the lightning-flash and thunder-cloud, In them, in thy experiences, had'st thou my
Weep not, child, Weep not, my darling, With these kisses let me remove your tears, The ravening clouds
Something there is, (With my lips soothing thee, adding I whisper, I give thee the first suggestion,
Of sea-captains young or old, and the mates, and of all intrepid sailors, Of the few, very choice, taciturn
rest, A spiritual woven signal for all nations, emblem of man elate above death, Token of all brave captains
and mates, And all that went down doing their duty, Reminiscent of them, twined from all intrepid captains
LOVER divine and perfect Comrade, Waiting content, invisible yet, but certain, Be thou my God.
Ideal Man, Fair, able, beautiful, content, and loving, Complete in body and dilate in spirit, Be thou my
O Death, (for Life has served its turn,) Opener and usher to the heavenly mansion, Be thou my God.
All great ideas, the races' aspirations, All heroisms, deeds of rapt enthusiasts, Be ye my Gods.
and wondrous, Or some fair shape I viewing, worship, Or lustrous orb of sun or star by night, Be ye my
good as such-like, visible here or anywhere, stand provided for in a handful of space, which I extend my
arm and half enclose with my hand, That containing the start of each and all, the virtue, the germs
cheerfully accept, A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money, as I rendez- vous rendezvous with my
SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance
it harm'd me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—as if it were not indispensable to my
FIRST O songs for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch'd tympanum pride and joy in my city, How she
O Manhattan, my own, my peerless! O strongest you in the hour of danger, in crisis!
Forty years had I in my city seen soldiers parading, Forty years as a pageant, till unawares the lady
Nothing my babe you see in the sky, And nothing at all to you it says—but look you my babe, Look at these
now the hal- yards halyards have rais'd it, Side of my banner broad and blue, side of my starry banner
Eastern shore, and my Western shore the same, And all between those shores, and my ever running Mississippi
with bends and chutes, And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri, The
My limbs, my veins dilate, my theme is clear at last, Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing
FATHOMLESS DEEPS. 1 RISE O days from your fathomless deeps, till you loftier, fiercer sweep, Long for my
O wild as my heart, and powerful!)
you have done me good, My soul prepared in the mountains absorbs your immortal strong nutriment, Long
had I walk'd my cities, my country roads through farms, only half satisfied, One doubt nauseous undulating
like a snake, crawl'd on the ground before me, Continually preceding my steps, turning upon me oft,
voice speaking, As to you Rebellious, (I seemed to hear her say,) why strive against me, and why seek my
yours—yet peace no more, In peace I chanted peace, but now the drum of war is mine, War, red war is my
Why do you tremble and clutch my hand so convulsively?
Aye, this is the ground, My blind eyes even as I speak behold it re-peopled from graves, The years recede
That and here my General's first battle, No women looking on nor sunshine to bask in, it did not conclude
I saw him at the river-side, Down by the ferry lit by torches, hastening the embarcation; My General
But when my General pass'd me, As he stood in his boat and look'd toward the coming sun, I saw something
the silence, Like a phantom far or near an occasional figure moving, The shrubs and trees, (as I lift my
VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night; When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day
battle, the even-contested battle, Till late in the night reliev'd to the place at last again I made my
long-drawn sigh, long, long I gazed, Then on the earth partially reclining sat by your side leaning my
chin in my hands, Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you dearest comrade—not a tear
, not a word, Vigil of silence, love and death, vigil for you my son and my soldier, As onward silently
smoke, By these, crowds, groups of forms vaguely I see on the floor, some in the pews laid down, At my
stanch the blood temporarily, (the youngster's face is white as a lily,) Then before I depart I sweep my
resume as I chant, I see again the forms, I smell the odor, Then hear outside the orders given, Fall in, my
A SIGHT in camp in the daybreak gray and dim, As from my tent I emerge so early sleepless, As slow I
Who are you my dear comrade? Then to the second I step—and who are you my child and darling?
AS toilsome I wander'd Virginia's woods, To the music of rustling leaves kick'd by my feet, (for 'twas
this sign left, On a tablet scrawl'd and nail'd on the tree by the grave, Bold, cautious, true, and my
Long, long I muse, then on my way go wandering, Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene of
soldier's grave, comes the inscrip- tion inscription rude in Virginia's woods, Bold, cautious, true, and my
the air I breathed froze me, A thick gloom fell through the sunshine and darken'd me, Must I change my
that love me, (Arous'd and angry, I'd thought to beat the alarum, and urge relentless war, But soon my
fingers fail'd me, my face droop'd and I resign'd myself, To sit by the wounded and soothe them, or
2 O maidens and young men I love and that love me, What you ask of my days those the strangest and sudden
Bearing the bandages, water and sponge, Straight and swift to my wounded I go, Where they lie on the
thigh, the knee, the wound in the abdomen, These and more I dress with impassive hand, (yet deep in my
noise of the world a rural domestic life, Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse by myself, for my
excitement, and rack'd by the war-strife,) These to procure incessantly asking, rising in cries from my
heart, While yet incessantly asking still I adhere to my city, Day upon day and year upon year O city
enrich'd of soul, you give me forever faces; (O I see what I sought to escape, confronting, reversing my
cries, I see my own soul trampling down what it ask'd for.) 2 Keep your splendid silent sun, Keep your
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans passing to burial! What I have I also give you.
The moon gives you light, And the bugles and the drums give you music, And my heart, O my soldiers, my
veterans, My heart gives you love.
WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long, And my head on the pillow rests
night midnight passes, And through the stillness, through the dark, I hear, just hear, the breath of my
with eager calls and orders of officers, While from some distant part of the field the wind wafts to my
far or near, (rousing even in dreams a devilish exultation and all the old mad joy in the depths of my
galloping by or on a full run, With the patter of small arms, the warning s-s-t of the rifles, (these in my
Me master years a hundred since from my parents sunder'd, A little child, they caught me as the savage
of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world; For my
look where he lies white-faced and still in the coffin—I draw near, Bend down and touch lightly with my
glance upward out of this page studying you, dear friend, whoever you are,) How solemn the thought of my
As I Lay With My Head in Your Lap Camerado. AS I LAY WITH MY HEAD IN YOUR LAP CAMERADO.
AS I lay with my head in your lap camerado, The confession I made I resume, what I said to you and the
open air I resume, I know I am restless and make others so, I know my words are weapons full of danger
Covering all my lands—all my seashores lining! Flag of death!
Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!
My sacred one, my mother.
therefore leave my works, And go lull yourself with what you can understand, and with piano- tunes piano-tunes
Ere departing fade from my eyes your forests of bayonets; Spirit of gloomiest fears and doubts, (yet
steps keep time; Spirit of hours I knew, all hectic red one day, but pale as death next day, Touch my
mouth ere you depart, press my lips close, Leave me your pulses of rage—bequeath them to me—fill me
with currents convulsive, Let them scorch and blister out of my chants when you are gone, Let them identify
TO the leaven'd soil they trod calling I sing for the last, (Forth from my tent emerging for good, loosing
vistas beyond, to the South and the North, To the leaven'd soil of the general Western world to attest my
Northern ice and rain that began me nourish me to the end, But the hot sun of the South is to fully ripen my
And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?
O wild and loose to my soul—O wondrous singer!
voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird.
While my sight that was bound in my eyes unclosed, As to long panoramas of visions.
I cease from my song for thee, From my gaze on thee in the west, fronting the west, communing with thee