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The bad spells in my head continued at short intervals all through Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.

ready to have them, and pretty sick and sore and bad, especially in head, confusing me, and affecting my

I have rewritten my Will, with some slight changes and additions, and placed it in the pocket of my trunk

here. … Ate my breakfast like a man this morning.

My eyes gave out before through. . . .

My dear Mr. Whitman, I received a few days since your last letter.

It is very pleasant to me to find you liked my Shakspere Shakespeare book, but much more to know that

But I do not doubt that half-a dozen of my friends will wish to have the books, so I should be obliged

which consisted in the main of apt selections from L. of G. & Democratic Vistas, & these were felt by my

Then, to my surprise & great satisfaction, followed speaker after speaker on the Whitman side,—a barrister

Dowden has written and then crossed out a note at the top of the page: "My former draft (for 10 dollars

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

criticism . . . after full retrospect of his works and life, the aforesaid 'odd-kind chiel' remains to my

England Dec 23rd 1891 My Dear Old Friend, By last mail I received your kind pc of Dec 10 th & the copy

of the Complete Edition of Leaves of Grass which you kindly sent For both of these I give you my most

The book I shall prize all my life long as a gift from you my dear good old Friend, & I desire in an

entitled "A Backward Glance O'er Travel'd Roads" and sixty-five poems; while the second, "Good-Bye my

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

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

O I cruise my old cruise again!

My children and grand-children, my white hair and beard, My largeness, calmness, majesty, out of the

long stretch of my life.

my senses and flesh, My body done with materials, my sight done with my material eyes, Proved to me

this day beyond cavil that it is not my material eyes which finally see, Nor my material body which finally

O I cruise my old cruise again!

My children and grand-children, my white hair and beard, My largeness, calmness, majesty, out of the

long stretch of my life.

my senses and flesh, My body done with materials, my sight done with my material eyes, Proved to me

this day beyond cavil that it is not my material eyes which finally see, Nor my material body which finally

328 Mickle street Camden New Jersey May 24 '85 My dear Watson Gilder I am in about my usual general health

(which is nothing to brag of) but my locomotion is worse—had a fall a month ago & turned my ankle in

, & at my age one dont recover from such things—Have no thought of coming to New York—If I did so, I

Walt Whitman Were the artist to visit Philadelphia I would sit to him here in my own room—good place

Good-Bye My Fancy! GOOD-BYE MY FANCY! GOOD-BYE my Fancy! Farewell dear mate, dear love!

going away, I know not where, Or to what fortune, or whether I may ever see you again, So Good-bye my

Now for my last—let me look back a moment; The slower fainter ticking of the clock is in me, Exit, nightfall

—now separation—Good-bye my Fancy.

my Fancy.

letter came in the noon mail & I will write a few lines—Glad to hear little Susie is well & send her my

bring the chicken for me—it will be acceptable—Herbert was here this forenoon but did not come up to my

(painting most likely) on the carpet—at any rate I tho't he looks hearty & well—I am still kept in my

I almost doubt if I ever will—weakness extreme—I have sold the mare & phæton—I sold her for a song—my

and one big 900 Vol. to contain all my works—you shall have them, when ready—Harry too—I send my love

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

My head has some bad spells, & a touch or more nearly every day, & my locomotion is still as clumsy as

am happy in not having any of those spasms of three weeks since, & indeed I have glimpses again of my

Louis, from my brother Jeff—I am very fond of it for breakfast, can eat it every day—(My appetite is

my love to Wash Milburn—I am writing this up in my room, 3 o'clock, pleasant weather, sun shining, window

Good bye for this time, my loving boy. Walt. Walt Whitman to Peter Doyle, 24 October [1873]

Dec: 3 '88 This is the title-page of a small ed'n of Nov: B . in Scotland I tho't might amuse you —My

concise examination—It has resulted the last four nights in quite no sleep, wh' is a pretty bad factor in my

big chair by the fire, the stove—it is sharp & cold, bright & sunny—Ed Wilkins (my young Kanuck, my

nurse & helper, Dr B. sent) has just come in to tell me the result of an errand—& so monotonously my

thread winds on— My friends Mr & Mrs: Harned have a new: born son —every thing working well—poor Dave

Or it may be my words have led you to do me some kind of injustice in thought,—& then I could defend

only might, but ought, on pain of being untrue to the greatest, sweetest instincts & aspirations of my

own soul, to answer it with all my heart & strength & life.

out life giving warmth & light to my inward self as actually as the Sun does to my body, & draws me

to it and shapes & shall shape my course just as the Sun shapes the Earth's.

Belmont Mass Oct 20 '88 My dear W.W.

Mrs K. is in Boston at a Symphony Concert and a precious ½ hour for my soul being at my disposal I feel

We are rolling out 90–100 books at once, & every page must pass under my eye twice & receive my fecit

before it goes out,—my guarantee.

I must stop & copy a page or so (my daily stint) of my Whitman bibliography (sawdusty job rather, but

I have thought of you, my darling boy, very much of the time.

I have not been out of the house since the first day after my arrival.

of, insulting to you, never for one moment in my thoughts.)

Dear Pete, dear son, my darling boy, my young & loving brother, don't let the devil put such thoughts

I will write again before long—give my love to Johnny Lee, my dear darling boy, I love him truly—(let

—A dusky mist spread itself before my eyes.

I wandered far, far away from my then and there existence.

scenes long since past, and faces that may never more greet my view.

—I saw every particular tree, and hill, and field, my old haunts.

—This is what I dread: for I have not enjoyed my young time.

See in particular the lines: "The supernatural of no account . . . . myself waiting my time to be one

My dear Friend, I am very curious to get a fuller idea of Ingersoll's dinner speech.

Am getting ready for my Western jaunt on July 7th. Saw item abt yr will.

With the full-perfumed love of my soul, I close, W S Kennedy William Sloane Kennedy to Walt Whitman,

"Ingersoll's Speech" of June 2, 1890, was written by Whitman himself and was reprinted in Good-Bye My

sixty-five poems that had originally appeared in November Boughs (1888); while the second, "Good-Bye my

As soon as the places heal up a little I hope she will be comfortable—yet my dear Mother it is no use

tell you that for the first time she cannot restrain groaning—I do not know whether the Dr will like my

My own horse is sick but not very bad—yet bad enough to make me feel mighty sorry for him—I hav'nt had

The first of her letters closes in an unusually intimate way: "it is my bed hour.

Dear Walt Whitman, "That my soul embraces you this hour, and we affect each other without ever seeing

Yes, and how "utterly quelled and defeated" too I have felt to find my strength so much less than my

each one the core of life, namely happiness, is full of the rotten excrement of maggots," and so in my

Leaves of Grass laid on my lightstand, and I opened to "Song of the Universe."

fast the world moves to me when I read such thoughts, and how slow when I carry them with me among my

Minchen is quoting from Whitman's poem "Who Learns My Lesson Complete."

Dec. 29, 1890 My Dear Friend, Thinking of you and wondering how your Christmas was spent has tempted

Please accept my thanks for the $2 which you sent the children.

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

Edinburgh, Scotland, July 31, 1890 My Dear Walt— Again I salute you.

I wish I had been at the birth-day fest, and heard the beauteous words of my friend Bob.

"Ingersoll's Speech" of June 2, 1890, was written by Whitman himself and was reprinted in Good-Bye My

Your great kindness—most fatherly, most tender—to D r Johnston & myself stirs my heart more deeply than

Thanks to you from my heart—and God bless you!

The "Rejoinder" was later reprinted in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891) (see Prose Works 1892, Volume 2: Collect

328 Mickle Street Camden New Jersey March 27 —I am getting well towards my usual (late year) state of

health —have had a bad time ever since I saw you in Phila —my own illness, confinement to the house

On March 27 Whitman wrote in his Commonplace Book: "Am writing this in my new premises in Mickle Street—slept

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

sane people about the institution more or less sick. 2 out of the 4 doctors in bed nearly every one at my

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

Bucke is referring to Whitman's poem "My 71st Year," which was first published in the November 1889 issue

been out now for three weeks—am writing—wish I c'd send you some nice doughnuts Mrs: D made yesterday—my

neice still in Saint Louis—my two sisters both bad health—Best Love to Harry and to Ed —Geo: must keep

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

Camden New Jersey U S America May 19 I have this day forwarded to you by mail—same address as this card— my

N W | F 6 | Paid | My 29 | 76."

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

My people refused to put up the money without adequate protection."

I suppose you rec'd Engineering Record of N Y. with obituary of my dear brother Jeff at St Louis—Love

1890, contained an obituary of Thomas Jefferson Whitman, which Whitman wrote and reprinted in Good-Bye My

have been, & are, having a cold easterly rain storm here—I enclose, on loan, the last two photos of my

October 10, 1871, Louisa Van Velsor Whitman wrote to Walt Whitman: "george and loo and Jeff insists on my

O'Connor wrote: "I have freely used the memoranda you sent, and got in as much of it as I could see my

And the gentle creature blushes at my protestations of love, and leans her cheek upon my neck.

"My brother, thus have I lived my life. Your look asks me if I have been happy.

"My brother, a maiden's tears washed my stern resolves away.

Various fortune followed my path.

But I can lay my hand upon my heart, and thank the Great Master, that the sunshine has been far oftener

My employer, Mr.

Andrews, had become so well satisfied with my performance of my duties, that he advanced me somewhat

above my original situation.

my duties during the day.

of my employer's honesty.

But, my dear comrades, I will now tell you something about my own folks—home here there is quite a lot

of us—my father is not living—my dear mother is very well indeed for her age, which is 67—she is cheerful

Often they hit each other, then there is a time— My loving comrades, I am scribbling all this in my room

in my mother's house.

, & I pray God to bless you, my darling boys, & I send you all my love, & I hope it will be so ordered

My relations with the boys there in Washington had fatherly, motherly, brotherly intimations—touched

I don't seem to be able to stand it in the present condition of my body'" (3:110–111).

Not My Enemies Ever Invade Me NOT MY ENEMIES EVER INVADE ME.

NOT my enemies ever invade me—no harm to my pride from them I fear; But the lovers I recklessly love—lo

me, ever open and helpless, bereft of my strength!

here is this old Africa & very unhappy send a message to you in America who are helping me to bear my

They were among the last things we ever read together but a few weeks ago in England when my life seemed

I am reading your poems now again alone & in the bitterness of my heart in this place to which I have

come to struggle with my sorrow.

dead love & my living grief.

That Shadow, My Likeness. That Shadow, my Likeness.

THAT shadow, my likeness, that goes to and fro, seek- ing seeking a livelihood, chattering, chaffering

where it flits; How often I question and doubt whether that is really me; —But in these, and among my

lovers, and caroling my songs, O I never doubt whether that is really me.

That Shadow, My Likeness THAT SHADOW, MY LIKENESS.

THAT shadow, my likeness, that goes to and fro, seek- ing seeking a livelihood, chattering, chaffering

it where it flits; How often I question and doubt whether that is really me; But in these, and among my

lovers, and carolling my songs, O I never doubt whether that is really me.

soul's passionate yearning toward thy divine Soul, every hour, every deed and thought—my love for my

children, my hopes aspirations for them all taking new shape new height through this great love My Soul

Oh for all that this love is my pride my glory.

My soul must have her loving companionship everywhere & in all things.

I am yet young enough to bear thee children my darling if God should so bless me.

England Nov r 7 th , 1891 My Dear Walt Whitman, I send you my best thanks for your kind p.c. of Oct 27

I much regret to hear of your "bad spell" & send you my warmest sympathy & my best wishes for its speedy

I haste this to you in the hour between my morning & my afternoon's round of visits.

My heart's best love to you always, Johnston Kind regards to all.

my most precious possessions.

Whitman's preface was also included in Good-Bye My Fancy (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1891), 51–53.

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

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

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

I look forward to my visit abroad with great expectation. "My health?

My income is just sufficient to keep my head above water—and what more can a poet ask?

of my life.

Sometimes I think my Western experiences a force behind my life work. "Also the battlefield?

"My idea of a book? A book must have a living vertebra to hold it together. "My religion?

aim'd at me—like flash of flame Right to my very soul it came.

An infant at that dreary hour, Comes weeping to my silent bower, And wakes me with a piteous prayer,

I, starting, cry, That mak'st my blissful dreams to fly?"

I know him by his bow and dart; (I know him by my fluttering heart:) I take him in—I quickly raise The

(My bosom trembled as he smiled,) I pray thee let me try my bow, For through the rain I've wandered

" thatwould Who is he become my follower?

What I and be asregardless experi ence or shall go from my composition with portray out a shred of my

I heard low one my you,too, murmuring through ofthe wristsaround my head, Heard the pulseof you,when

"He you who spreads a wider breast than own the my proves width of my own.

"BefIrwas born out of my mother, generations guided me, My embryo has never been torpid nothing

My Dear Old Friend, My heartiest thanks to you for your letter with enclosures rec d by last mail.

—thereby endorsing the professor's eulogistic references to me & my "Notes," & enhancing its value a

My best thanks to you for that.

& two surgical operations in addition to a long list of cases) & I have still a letter to write to my

My best love to you now & always & my warmest greeting! God bless you!

So I defer my visit to you.

My wife and I Earnestly hope we may see you at our house soon.

All my Thought of late, Walt, is of you, and your great work.

All other books seem to me weak and unworthy my attention.

My wife appreciated the difference greatly .

Brooklyn Nov 17, 1863 Dear friend I suppose Nelly has received a letter from me posting you up of my

last night, Trovatore —very, very good singing & acting— I feel to devote myself more to the work of my

I shall range along the high plateau of my life & capacity for a few years now, & then swiftly descend

, & the objects, &c of most, seem to me very flippant & shallow somehow since I returned this time— My

Dear comrade, I send you my love, & to William & Nelly, & remember me to Major [Hapgood] — Walt Walt