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are both very helpful to me—one comes day time, & one evening—I had a good night's sleep last night—My
mind is just as clear as ever—& has been all the time—(I have not been at all down hearted either)—(My
it—I shall be getting well soon—am on a fair way to it now— latest ½ past 4 I have just set up & had my
I rec'd your letter, dear mother—you may rest assured that I write the exact facts about my sickness—I
window looking out on the river & scenery—it is beautiful weather now—they have sent over & paid me my
with the money—& yesterday I sent you by Adams' express, paid, to same address as this letter a set of my
Sept 14 My dear Linton, I rec'd a letter to–day from Moncure Conway (just arr'd arrived here from England
My general strength, however, from fair to middling.
Dont feel to leave my anchorage here, just now—but hope yet to take advantage of your affectionate &
Sunday , March 28 Dear Linton, My note of yesterday, (or day before,) asking for the bill was written
To-day, better, I have just taken up yours to read a second time, (as I generally do with my friends'
431 Stevens Street Camden New Jersey May 8 '78 My dear Linton I returned last evening from a jaunt to
half-&-half)—after a bad spell during March & most of April—thought I was going to have a relapse to my
—Since my late sick spell, it is not so likely the programme will be carried out —but I want to go about
way we talked of, (& I have no doubt we shall,) & satisfaction is felt on both sides, it is certainly my
Whitman observed to Horace Traubel in 1889: "What a sweat I used to be in all the time . . . over getting my
My dear Linton, Your kind letter came duly to hand.
Rossetti: Dear Sir & friend; Please accept these copies of my latest edition.
address is still there—(& always, always glad to hear from you, my friend.)
My " Leaves of Grass " I consider substantially finished, as in the copies I send you.
To " Democratic Vistas " it is my plan to add much, if I live.
Indeed, my friend, I wish to hear from you oftener.
My dear Linton: How do you get on with the picture?
I am back here at work at my desk, for the fall & coming winter.
April 13 '79 My dear Sir To break the tedium of my half-invalidism—& as an experiment—I have come on
I with my respects, thanks, & love —I shall give the whole proposed meeting, address &c: into his and
(choice persons,) one third women (Proceeds to me $869.45)—I went over, was wheeled on the stage in my
this fine sunny crispy day—cross'd the Delaware—walk'd up Chestnut st—every thing lovely—look'd in at my
Camden Monday Evng Evening Feb 26 '83 At the breakfast table this morning we all agreed—my sister most
Monday afternoon April 14 1879. 1309 Fifth av: near 86th st My dear Reid— As you might possibly have
room in the paper—& a full report might hit—I send you a complete copy of my lecture, to take the chances
to-morrow's paper —(As I calculate, it would make about three quarters of a column in your small type) — —My
plan is to break the tedium of my half invalidism from time to time (& also collect a few shekels) by
myself in memory of Poe, which I have obeyed; but not the slightest impulse to make a speech, which, my
Even my own objections draw me to him at last; and those very points, with his sad fate, will make him
That figure of my lurid dream might stand for Edgar Poe, his spirit, his fortunes, and his poems—themselves
indeed fill me best and most, and will longest remain with me, of all the objective shows I see on this, my
Cincinnati and Chicago, and for thirty years, in that wonder, washed by hurried and glittering tides, my
Here in this very Denver, if it might be so, I should like to cast my lot, above all other spots, all
Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain,(says my grandmother's father;) We have
my Captain!
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! 1 O CAPTAIN! my captain!
Leave you not the little spot, Where on the deck my captain lies.
Fallen cold and dead. 2 O captain! my captain!
my best as for a purpose, Unbuttoning my clothes and holding me by the bare waist, Deluding my confusion
My Soul!
We closed with him . . . . the yards entangled . . . . the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
Come my children, Come my boys and girls, and my women and household and intimates, Now the performer
He swears to his art, I will not be meddlesome, I will not have in my writing any elegance or effect
What I experience or portray shall go from my composition without a shred of my composition.
You shall stand by my side and look in the mirror with me.
Is it uniform with my country? Are its disposals without ignominious distinctions?
what answers for me an American must answer for any individual or nation that serves for a part of my
my best as for a purpose, Unbuttoning my clothes and holding me by the bare waist, Deluding my confusion
My Soul!
We closed with him . . . . the yards entangled . . . . the cannon touched, My captain lashed fast with
I laughed content when I heard the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cried
Come my children, Come my boys and girls, and my women and household and intimates, Now the performer
COME closer to me, Push close my lovers and take the best I possess, Yield closer and closer and give
I will have my own whoever enjoys me, I will be even with you, and you shall be even with me.
become so for your sake; If you remember your foolish and outlawed deeds, do you think I cannot remember my
am this day just as much in love with them as you, But I am eternally in love with you and with all my
friendly companions, I intend to reach them my hand and make as much of them as I do of men and women
How perfect is my soul! How perfect the earth, and the minutest thing upon it!
O my soul! if I realize you I have satisfaction, Animals and vegetables!
I cannot define my satisfaction . . yet it is so, I cannot define my life . . yet it is so.
Leaves of Grass, "I Wander All Night in My Vision," Leaves of Grass.
My hands are spread forth . .
I descend my western course . . . . my sinews are flaccid, Perfume and youth course through me, and I
darn my grandson's stockings.
though I lie so sleepy and sluggish, my tap is death.
curious breathing laughing flesh is enough, To pass among them . . to touch any one . . . . to rest my
As I see my soul reflected in nature . . . . as I see through a mist one with inexpress- ible inexpressible
BY the City Dead-House, by the gate, As idly sauntering, wending my way from the clangor, I curious pause—for
take one breath from my tremulous lips; Take one tear, dropt aside as I go, for thought of you, Dead
CAROL OF OCCUPATIONS. 1 COME closer to me; Push close, my lovers, and take the best I possess!
Neither a servant nor a master am I; I take no sooner a large price than a small price—I will have my
become so for your sake; If you remember your foolish and outlaw'd deeds, do you think I cannot remember my
are; I am this day just as much in love with them as you; Then I am in love with you, and with all my
List close, my scholars dear!
Receive me and my lover too—he will not let me go without him.
me, and takes the place of my lover, He rises with me silently from the bed.
my clothes were stolen while I was abed, Now I am thrust forth, where shall I run?
carefully darn my grandson's stockings.
How he informs against my brother and sister, and takes pay for their blood!
shame or the need of shame. 2 Air, soil, water, fire—these are words; I myself am a word with them—my
qualities interpene- trate interpenetrate with theirs—my name is nothing to them; Though it were told
in the three thousand languages, what would air, soil, water, fire, know of my name?
When I undertake to tell the best, I find I cannot, My tongue is ineffectual on its pivots, My breath
(For what is my life, or any man's life, but a conflict with foes—the old, the incessant war?)
painful and choked articulations—you mean- nesses meannesses ; You shallow tongue-talks at tables, (my
resolutions, you racking angers, you smoth- er'd smother'd ennuis; Ah, think not you finally triumph—My
indifferent , but trembling with age and your unheal'd wounds, you mounted the scaffold;) —I would sing in my
know not why, but I loved you…(and so go forth little song, Far over sea speed like an arrow, carrying my
love, and drop these lines at his feet;) —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
love, spit their salutes; When the fire-flashing guns have fully alerted me— when heaven-clouds canopy my
To us, my city, Where our tall-topt marble and iron beauties range on opposite sides—to walk in the space
4 See, my cantabile!
chant, projected, a thousand blooming cities yet, in time, on those groups of sea-islands; I chant my
sail-ships and steam-ships threading the archipelagoes; I chant my stars and stripes fluttering in the
I am determin'd to press my way toward you; Sound your voice!
My South! O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse, and love! Good and evil! O all dear to me!
O dear to me my birth-things—All moving things, and the trees where I was born—the grains, plants, rivers
; Dear to me my own slow sluggish rivers where they flow, distant, over flats of silvery sands, or through
the Tombigbee, the Santee, the Coosa, and the Sabine; O pensive, far away wandering, I return with my
the graceful palmetto; I pass rude sea-headlands and enter Pamlico Sound through an inlet, and dart my
Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain'd with iron, or my ankles with iron?
I exclude you; Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you, do my
My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to
DRUM-TAPS. 1 FIRST, O songs, for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch'd tympanum, pride and joy in my
O Manhattan, my own, my peerless! O strongest you in the hour of danger, in crisis!
for our pre- lude prelude , songs of soldiers,) How Manhattan drum-taps led. 2 Forty years had I in my
Long for my soul, hungering gymnastic, I devour'd what the earth gave me; Long I roam'd the woods of
O wild as my heart, and powerful!)
wonder, yet pensive and masterful; All the menacing might of the globe uprisen around me; Yet there with my
; —Long had I walk'd my cities, my country roads, through farms, only half satisfied; One doubt, nauseous
longer wait—I am fully satisfied—I am glutted; I have witness'd the true lightning—I have witness'd 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 convul- sively convulsively ?
Aye, this is the ground; My blind eyes, even as I speak, behold it re-peopled from graves; The years
night of that, mist lifting, rain ceasing, Silent as a ghost, while they thought they were sure of him, my
him at the river-side, Down by the ferry, lit by torches, hastening the embar- cation embarcation ; My
But when my General pass'd me, As he stood in his boat, and look'd toward the coming sun, I saw something
fire—the silence; Like a phantom far or near an occasional figure moving; The shrubs and trees, (as I left 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
staunch 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 day-break grey and dim, As from my tent I emerge so early, sleepless, As slow
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
the unknown soldier's grave—comes the 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
said I to my- self myself ; Must I indeed learn to chant the cold dirges of the baf- fled baffled ?
2 O maidens and young men I love, and that love me, What you ask of my days, those the strangest and
without noise, and be of strong heart.) 3 Bearing the bandages, water and sponge, Straight and swift to my
knee, the wound in the abdo- men abdomen ; These and more I dress with impassive hand—(yet deep in my
a fire, a burning flame.) 5 Thus in silence, in dreams' projections, Returning, resuming, I thread my
world, a rural domestic life; Give me to warble spontaneous songs, reliev'd, 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
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!
have I also give you. 9 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.