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Friday. 12 Well Road Hampstead London England My dear Walt: I send you three pounds ￡3. the sum being

I am getting ready my pictures (2) for the spring Exhibition.

My Book is getting near though not quite through the press: In one of the last chapters, I added, at

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

I twice questioned my informer before I could believe it."

"He flung it down at my door, as though the fellow meant some injury: an Italian would have handled it

I remember Thoreau saying once, when walking with him in my favourite favorite Brooklyn—"What is there

My friends laugh, and say I am getting Conservative—but I am tired of mock radicalism.'

"Well, honour honor is the subject of my story," —was the commencement of a favourite speech with him

It gives me a deep sincere pleasure to write this note, but I should like to say about my article, that

Whitman, late in life, said to Horace Traubel: "[I] take my Ruskin with some qualifications."

It is great and good— My object in writing now is merely to thank you for your thoughtfulness & to call

your attention to my change of address.

Pray give my love to him & say I am expecting a letter saying when I may write to him. Herbert P.

to learn he has never been to school as the school is about 2 miles off but he can read right smart. my

would be very happy to see you, we all send our best respects to you and all your friends. you will see my

Whitman— I have taken so much pleasure of late in re-reading your work that I would not render my spiritual

I have read "Pioneers, O Pioneers" over and over again to my many friends, who study not books but life

I have your picture in my room, and I never see it or take up your book without feeling what a glorious

I send you a few poems of my own. I shall be glad if they please you.

I am not a person that makes literary visits, but I wish that I could meet you this summer, on my return

My Bondage and My Freedom. 1855. Urbana: U of Illinois P, 1987. ———.

Dozens of pages of his rhythmic prose are not worth "My Captain," which among all his compositions comes

If Whitman, after the same length of time, proves more fortunate, it will be because he wrote "My Captain

coffin that slowly passes, I give you my sprig of lilac.

(See Ted Genoways, "'Scented herbage of my breast': Whitman's Chest Hair and the Frontispiece to the

My dear Mr. Whitman: Allow me to introduce to your acquaintance, my young friend, Mr. E. H.

I remember with great pleasure my visit to you last March, when I was on my way home from Johns Hopkins

I am, my dear Sir, Very truly yours.

My dear Sir: I recd received your favor of April 13th and the book, which I'm delighted to have.

Pardon my delay in acknowledging, due to illness.

My Dear Walt: You have, I believe, in your hands certain charges against Judge Kelly of Idaho.

His friends are my friends, and while I do not know much of him personally, I nevertheless know his accuser

I congratulate you, my dear fellow, on the great appreciation which reaches across the greatwater to

My Dear Walt— I got your pleasant letter, and thank you for the attention you paid my note through Mr

I feared over aggressiveness (perhaps my mulishness) on the 20 percent and other mooted questions had

much with a "Compound Fracture" of the leg and after laying months and months had it amputated at last My

take great pleasure in writing to you again, and in giving you some of the particular in regard to my

health, limb situation, &c My health at present is very good—better than at any time since I left the

troubled me of any account have worn my artificial nearly all the time since the winter of –'64.

dist) threw me out of my position as doortender.

my not writing let them lay it to my inabilities instead of my inclination Waiting to hear from you

and who are forever enshrined in his—and civic—memory and as a significant theme of the dirge.In "O Captain

My Captain!"

The president is described as the fallen captain of the ship of state he had steered to victory.

Whitman’s famous rhymed dirge for Lincoln, “O Captain! My Captain!

my Captain!

My Captain!” An unsigned review in The Inde - pendent in 1865 mused that “O Captain!”

My Captain!,” and “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d.” 15.

My Captain!

It seem to me more than all the print I have read in my life."

This business established by my old and valued friend Mr.

merely a little preamble to prepare your mind for a request Miss Langley desired me, when at Reading—(my

Was born May 31, 1819, in my father'sfarm-house, atWest Hills,L. I., sailor— on my New York State.

My parents' folks mostly farmers and father'sside, of English — on my mother's,.

hands,my limbsgrow nerveless, My brainfeelrack'd,bewilder'd.

It was for this and for no lesserreason that he was, able to hail Lincoln as "My Captain."

In the " presence of calamity he sobs, as a child, Oh my Captain my Father !"

These were my first years with Emerson, and the questions provoked by my confession of this fact would

He lifted my common experience into biblical sanctity, and impelled my whole life to expanding issues

He thoroughly respected my autonomy, never once crossing my transactions with printer or binder.

Can I have won my battle after all?...

If I go there with a magazine under my arm, or a paper in my pocket, he is quite likely to ask me to

It is my own spirit, my own feeling—to accept and try and listen, and don't be too quick to reject, and

my fig tree.

I ask myself more than a little if my best friends have not been women. My friend Mrs.

My attempt at "Leaves of Grass"—my attempt at my own expression—is after all this: to thoroughly equip

Eyre .— I want to call attention to "My Captain," a poem which has in it the element of the dramatic

I did not received my reporter's notes till this morn: They are quite well, & afford me ample basis on

which to build my account.

—Morris is sweet, sane, quiet—one of the best fellows so far swept into my arcana.

patients this time, & have picked up a vast lot of odds & ends of alienist information which I missed in my

I will tell you about this on my return. Longaker writes Doctor a letter—very favorable.

My Dear Mr.

Jeff has been a very great blow to me personally, as for a good many years I looked upon him as one of my

and I have learned to lean upon him in so many ways that I feel as though a prop were taken out of my

I am sorry to have to write you a machine letter now, but my crippled arm makes this a necessity.

Some of them say my face there has a rogue in it. O'Connor called it my sea-captain face.

W. commented in this way: "I'm honest when I say, damn My Captain and all the My Captains in my book!

, my Captain!

FIRST DRAFT MANUSCRIPT OF ONE VERSE OF WHITMAN'S "MY CAPTAIN" My captain does not answer, his lips are

My captain does not answer, his lips are closed and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no

the rest of my days in that vicinity.

happiest hours have been spent there—some of my freest hours."

Upon my remonstrance he said: "I will make it a religion to like the new man."

He took it out of my hand, scanned it, handed it back.

"If I die in the midst of things you may fall heir to all my work: think of that: all my work!"

Give me a day or two more: I will do my best to be good.

very sick—and sore: tell them I feel as if the whole ground had been swept from under my feet—as if I

of a socialist than I thought I was: maybe not technically, politically, so, but intrinsically, in my

When I go to my tailor I lay down a law to him: that among the prime requisites of a suit of clothes

Held a letter gleefully up before my face. "Here is the Whittier," he said: "Take it—be satisfied."

But I, for my part—we—must not play the game with that end in view.

Osler respected my objection." Box of flowers from Charlotte Fiske Bates.

"I do not seem to get the thing very clearly in my own mind: it eludes me."

He said of it: "I have no doubt you are right: I will give the poems my attention.

Complained, however: "While that is true, my vim and strength do not return: I despair of recovering

"It don't go very well: my brain is not equal to it: could not cope with it—gets tired, takes my pen

out of my hand."

Finally: "Hicks is entitled to my best—not my worst.

My best would be too little—my worst would be an insult."

It now takes all my energy merely to get to the chair and back to the bed again.

"I knew the habitats of Hicks so well—my grand-parents knew him personally so well—the shore up there

What all this comes to is, that just that sort of a debate is going on in my mind now, whether to condemn

For thirty years I have had it in my plans to write a book about Hicks.

the procrastinations, stranded, with nothing but a few runaway thoughts on the subject to show for my

and I am still without the first show of substantial strength—though it is true the acute phases of my

"Yes, indeed, essentially knows it well: I think she takes it in—reads nearly all my books.

My forte was—if I can say it that way—in floating.

After I had written my letter to Emerson I wondered if I had not overdone my call.

My Dear Sir:Mr.

I started something with that end in view, but my condition at the time was rather dubious, so that I

"My writing has been clear from the start—almost from boyhood: not beautiful, but legible."

He called my attention to a letter from the West and called it "empty".

I can never know when the door will be banged shut in my face."

They are not my ideals but they are ideals—very lofty ideals." Saturday, July 21, 1888.

"The text is a little mixed up," W. said of it apologetically: "My mind is not now-a-days a perfect machine

"My brain often takes speed and is away—gets rein-free and flies without will or plan—and I am helpless

"My whole soul revolts against that line: my very first feeling was one of utter disgust."

My place in Washington was a peculiar one—my reasons for being there, my doing there what I did do.

I do not think I quite had my match.

Wonderfully cheerful in the evening on my arrival, talking most freely for more than an hour.

My last thought confirmed my first: it seemed like supererogation to impose such a statement upon the

"But Washington, New Orleans, Brooklyn—they are my cities of romance.

He asked me some questions about my health.

I could not stand before a Millet picture with my hat on." Monday July 23, 1888.

perhaps in a day or two I may be able to render them in a better shape, when I write again to tell you of my

Here health I bring you in one draught of song Caught in my rhymster's cup from earth's delight Where

I had these letters in my pocket when I saw him today. Letter three he had me read aloud.

"I rely a good deal upon my general feeling about a piece when it comes back to me in type."

Sometimes I think he is a little afraid of my friends.

"My head is behaving itself right decently just now. But it's funny, how unambitious my body is.

My fatal procrastination has tripped me up at last.

"My notes are very accurate.

"I want no club founded in my name."

The effect upon me was slow, though one of the surgeons there finally called my attention to my own peril

"Some kind words from my friend William Carey there—William Carey.

Some don't like my long lines, some do: some don't like my commas, some do: some cuss my long catalogues

My proper habitat is out-of-doors."

I spend all my time at work about the place and like it much.

"Yes, they do, and I was about to say so, but you took it out of my mouth.

Those fellows have one virtue—they always use good paper: and on that I manage to do a good deal of my

"I've been taken and taken beyond count—taken from every side—even from my blind side"—laughing—"taken

I must be satisfied now if I have succeeded in hinting at matters which it was a part of my original

"I had my temptations, but they were not strong enough to tempt.

"I suppose I did: I wrote things down: I saw them better in my handwriting than in my mind's eye—could

Armory Sq Hospital,Sunday Evening Oct 4Dear Madam,Your letter reached me this forenoon with the $30 for my

Who put you on to my secret?" "It's not even a secret—anybody might know it who looked."

My nature, my temperament, my blood, should take me close to the Teuton."

Here was my first tally of life—here were my first tries with the lute—in that book I am just like a

for two hours on my tin horn."

W. answering my inquiry said: "No, I didn't go down stairs today.

it won't hurt me: my caution, you remember, is six and over!

I quoted this: "I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother." "Yes," said W.

I reminded W. of one of my sisters similarly afflicted.

Here—take this bunch with my blessing and be happy.

I haven't cast out all of my devils yet." Brought him new proofs which he at once glanced over.

"I do little nowadays but sit and thank my stars that I have fallen into such good hands in the time

of my need."

W. added, answering another question of Harned's: "I like to keep my prices down to the level of my real

My acquaintance with Leaves of Grass dates from my early university days some ten years ago, when having

I have never made any full statement on religion in any of my writings but I have always intended to.

W. saying of it to me: "Eddy appeals to my heart, to my two arms: I seem to want to reach out and help

But for myself I do not feel that I could be overwhelmed by any misfortune that left my mind untouched

I came across the book this last summer, and it laid hold of my mind so that I could not put it away

But I got my roots stronger in the earth—master would not do anymore: no, not then: would no longer do

Said as to my inquiries: "I am bad again, very bad—somehow start into a new siege: it is my head, my

My dear Mr.

That is my habit—they call it my procrastination—it has always been my habit.

old days, my youth, my forty years ago, any more!"

But my memory! my memory!"

in my optimism, my democracy."

Weda Cook sang a My Captain song of her own composition.

I attribute much of my success in weathering this attack to my good stock—to my father, my mother: indeed

man,' 'my man,' 'my man.'

I must get to my bed: my head reels: I feel as though a minute more on my feet—on my feet—here—would

"It must be milder: my body tells me so." Letter from Bucke, he said. Searched for it.

He laughed heartily: "That's what I was just saying: it's my funeral that's in the way!"

He went on I could see rather because of his own impulse than of my suggestion.

He was interested in my account of my father's extensive reading of the German classics and of his great

I said I considered my playdays quite as valuable for life-making as my workdays: did he?

"I didn't say smash, Maurice: I only said I felt it in my bones that you'd never be tested."

Why, I felt as if he was kicking my ass out of the house!"

Then he added: "There are some of my friends who are determined that I shall not be represented as a

I must not wait any longer now, though there is a fog outside and a fog or something of the sort in my

For my own sake, as well as yours, I wish it were!

"My God, no!

"You may go along, to give my step a sort of certainty."

Just today I read Bucke out of my notes W.'

My God!" W. mockingly said: "Maurice, you shock me!"

and still my withers are unwrung!"

"Do you think the meter's success means my failure, Walt?" "It might."

W. said: "That's another of my illusions shattered."

W. exclaimed: "My God! has it come to that? am I fallen so low?

W. asked: "I wonder if my words will be included?

Bucke said: "I hope you won't take offense at my freedom?"