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again, this soil'd world: …For my enemy is dead—a man divine as myself is dead; I look where he lies, white-faced

and still, in the coffin—I draw near; I bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the

grave, an ancient sorrowful mother, Once a queen—now lean and tatter'd, seated on the ground, Her old white

on the cold ground, with forehead between your knees; O you need not sit there, veil'd in your old white

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and

sun- set sunset —the river between, Shadows, aureola and mist, light falling on roofs and gables of white

the unearthly cry, Its veins down the neck distend, its eyes roll till they show nothing but their whites

Off the word I have spoken I except not one—red, white, black, are all deific; In each house is the ovum—it

soiree, I heard what the singers were singing so long, Heard who sprang in crimson youth from the white

She sits in an arm-chair, under the shaded porch of the farm-house, The sun just shines on her old white

WORLD, take good notice, silver stars fading, Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching, Coals thirty-six

Fast as she can she hurries—something ominous— her steps trembling; She does not tarry to smooth her white

the single figure to me, Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio, with all its cities and farms, Sickly white

babe—all but the young man and his wife were in the wagon drawn by 4 oxen—the wagon covered with dirty white

leading with a rope a fine old cow—a young cow and calf were alongside—under the wagon was a large white

BEHOLD this swarthy face, this unrefined face—these gray eyes, This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon

O the huge sob—A few bubbles—the white foam spirting up—And then the women gone, Sinking there, while

In the night, in solitude, tears; On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck'd in by the sand; Tears—not

hurry in and out, Not the air, delicious and dry, the air of the ripe summer, bears lightly along white

the thick tangle, the openings, and the pink turf, Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white

Then to the third—a face nor child, nor old, very calm, as of beautiful yellow-white ivory: Young man

Or white-domed Capitol itself, with magestic majestic figure sur- mounted surmounted —or all the old

NOT alone our camps of white, O soldiers, When, as order'd forward, after a long march, Footsore and

The wretched features of ennuyés, the white fea- tures features of corpses, the livid faces of drunkards

sweet eating and drinking, Laps life-swelling yolks—laps ear of rose-corn, milky and just ripen'd; The white

and even to his head—he strikes out with courageous arms—he urges himself with his legs, I see his white

his arms with measureless love, and the son holds the father in his arms with measureless love, The white

hair of the mother shines on the white wrist of the daughter, The breath of the boy goes with the breath

where men have not yet sail'd—the farthest polar sea, ripply, crystalline, open, beyond the floes; White

tree tops, Below, the red cedar, festoon'd with tylandria—the pines and cypresses, growing out of the white

wind; The camp of Georgia wagoners, just after dark—the supper-fires, and the cooking and eating by whites

(he is shot in the ab- domen abdomen ;) I staunch the blood temporarily, (the youngster's face is white

little islands, larger ad- joining adjoining islands, the heights, the villas, The countless masts, the white

New York, May 24 th 186 7 To Scott & Williams, Dr. (Late, WM. E.

Nassau & William.

Williams to Walt Whitman, 24 May 1867

OFFICE OF SCOTT & WILLIAMS, BOOK AND JOB PRINTERS, 24 BEEKMAN STREET, New York , Aug 14th 186 7 Walt

Your earliest attention will much oblige Yours Respectfully Scott & Williams for Kent P.S.

Price Elizabeth Lorang Ashley Lawson Beverley Rilett Scott & Williams to Walt Whitman, 14 August 1867

of the rifle balls; I see the shells exploding, leaving small white clouds— I hear the great shells shrieking

Winds blow South, or winds blow North, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains

shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, The white

What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!

Walt Whitman by William Kurtz?

, ca. 1867 - 1870 For more information on William Kurtz, see "Notes on Whitman's Photographers."

In the night, in solitude, tears; On the white shore dripping, dripping, suck'd in by the sand; Tears—not

The cactus, guarded with thorns—the laurel-tree, with large white flowers; The range afar—the richness

signs; I would sing your contest for the 19th Presidentiad; I would sing how an old man, tall, with white

Dear William, Mr.

Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 10 January [1867?]

Dear William, I wish you to come & take Thanksgiving Dinner with us to-morrow. Mrs.

Price Elizabeth Lorang Zachary King Eric Conrad Walt Whitman to William D.

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and

sun- set sunset —the river between, Shadows, aureola and mist, light falling on roofs and gables of white

bay to notice the arriving ships, Saw their approach, saw aboard those that were near me, Saw the white

serpentine pennants, The large and small steamers in motion, the pilots in their pilot-houses, The white

pass up or down, white-sail'd schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations!

William H. Seward, Secretary of State.

as noted: Elizabeth Lorang John Schwaninger Nima Najafi Kianfar Kevin McMullen Henry Stanbery to William

William H. Seward, Secretary of State.

Binckley to William H. Seward, 30 December 1867

William H. Seward, Secretary of State.

as noted: Elizabeth Lorang Kevin McMullen John Schwaninger Nima Najafi Kianfar Henry Stanbery to William

William H. Seward, Secretary of State.

Binckley to William H. Seward, 14 November 1867

Church, In response to your letter to William O'Connor, I send herewith the piece, " A Carol of Harvest

Price Elizabeth Lorang Zachary King Eric Conrad Walt Whitman to William C. Church, 7 August 1867

beauty of person; The shape of his head, the richness and breadth of his manners, the pale yellow and white

swelling and deliciously aching; Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love, white-blow

Examine these limbs, red, black, or white—they are so cunning in tendon and nerve; They shall be stript

The sum of all known reverence I add up in you, whoever you are; The President is there in the White

All architecture is what you do to it when you look upon it; (Did you think it was in the white or gray

the stumpy bars of pig-iron, the strong, clean-shaped T-rail for railroads; Oil-works, silk-works, white-lead-works

3 In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white-wash'd palings, Stands the lilac bush,

wheat, every grain from its shroud in the dark-brown fields uprising; Passing the apple-tree blows of white

I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them, And the white skeletons of young men—I saw them; I saw the debris

I have been purchasing property, or rather becoming responsible for the same — William, you needn't send

William, I do hope, it will come to you to buckle-to, & write something for Putnam— et al .

Price Elizabeth Lorang Zachary King Eric Conrad Walt Whitman to William D.

William M. Evarts, Esq. New York. Sir: I have received the joint letter of Mr.

Binckley to William M. Evarts, 4 November 1867

O the huge sob—A few bubbles—the white foam spirting up—And then the women gone, Sinking there, while

Bring down those toss'd arms, and let your white hair be; Here gape your great grand-sons—their wives

William, I received the letter, with Ramsdells note. Also Allen's.

Price Elizabeth Lorang Zachary King Eric Conrad Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 12 May [1867]

Edited by William A. Hammond, M.D., and E. S. Dunster, M.D. Subscription, $5,00 per annum. II.

Edited by William A. Hammond, M.D. Subscription, $5,00 per annum. III.—The Philobiblion.

By William Seller, M.D., etc., and Henry Stephens. A book for every Farmer and Rearer of Cattle.

By William Murray, M.D., etc. (In press.) LIGHT; ITS INFLUENCE ON LIFE AND HEALTH.

C. spoke of the remnants of the old Bohemian crowd—expressed contempt for William Winter —called him

Show John this letter—I send him my love—William, I have not yet rec'd any letters—when any come, send

Price Ashley Lawson Elizabeth Lorang Zachary King Eric Conrad Walt Whitman to William D.

Dear William O'Connor, When I arrived home yesterday I found my brother worse than I had anticipated.

Price Elizabeth Lorang Zachary King Eric Conrad Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 5 May [1867]

accoutrements—they buckle the straps carefully; Outdoors arming—indoors arming—the flash of the musket-barrels; The white

night, and withdraws at the peep of the day, with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white

Growing among black folks as among white; Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same,

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers; Darker than the colorless beards of

The young men float on their backs—their white bellies bulge to the sun—they do not ask who seizes fast

I depart as air—I shake my white locks at the run- away runaway sun; I effuse my flesh in eddies, and

, I was refresh'd by the storm; I watch'd with joy the threatening maws of the waves; I mark'd the white