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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

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 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

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.

—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.

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.

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."

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

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

My Dear Whitman,— Don't you thik think it would be well for you to give me a line to Prof.

Dowden, telling him that you have read the bibliography of my forthcoming book, and that you think you

I am afraid they will be but dilatory in taking hold of the matter on my request alone,.

For my part, I dislike to ask anyone for to serve as go-between, but you seemed to think it would be

My roses are superb; have pitched a tent in my yard. Aff. Affectionately W. S. Kennedy.

& my works' future—the backward & contemporary reference.

less evidences of gradual physical deterioration —but spirits good—appetite &c fair—& you know I begin my

70th year now in ab't two months—thank God indeed that things are as well as they are & that I & my

fortunes (literary & otherwise) are—Rainy & dark & raw here all day—I was out yesterday four hours to my

friends the Harneds —was taken & bro't back in my phæton —a lull in my Herald contributions —I send

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).

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?

Forest Hill April 19/61 My Dear Walt.

True I might not prove strong enough for much hard work but I could fire my gun once and die, for my

My dear Walt I am not yet conquered .

I have everything external to crush me and stinging poverty to freeze my heart, but my day is coming

God bless you my dear man.

compliments" been off my table.

Literature," and then with my beautiful mother's death, my reckless son's divorce, and other Orestean

You know I am one of those who have the privilege of sharing my scrip with you, my dear elder bard, when

something that is my own to share.

My table is covered with letters I can't get time & strength to answer.

Dear Walt I am going to try and write you a few lines this morning, but you must overlook my poor composition

also my writing, for I am very weak and my mind is not as it was before I was sun stroke .

My Sister and also my friends are very anxious to see and to read your Leaves of Grass and I hope they

able to be proped up in bed and able to write to my true friend and comrade.

My Sister Mary says when I go back to war she shall write to you.

NOT heaving from my ribbed breast only, Not in sighs at night, in rage, dissatisfied with myself, Not

in those long-drawn, ill-suppressed sighs, Not in many an oath and promise broken, Not in my wilful

savage soul's volition, Not in the subtle nourishment of the air, Not in this beating and pounding at my

sleep, Nor the other murmurs of these incredible dreams of every day, Nor in the limbs and senses of my

O pulse of my life! Need I that you exist and show yourself, any more than in these songs.

Your memory burns as bright as ever in my heart & allways will, thear is now doubt but some of my corrospondants

I will be thear on the last day of August, if I do not get my furlow extended, whitch I have the hopes

of, for I would most as leave come back to see my old friends as stay at home.

The Doctor that tens me hear wants me for to try and get my furlow extended, for he thinks that my leg

Dear Walter I am enjoying my self fine as well, I think, as any cripple can.

WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long, And my head on the pillow rests

at home, and the mys- tic mystic midnight passes, And through the stillness, through the dark, I hear

, just hear, the breath of my infant, There in the room, as I wake from sleep, this vision presses upon

with eager calls, and orders of officers; While from some distant part of the field the wind wafts to my

or near, (rousing, even in dreams, a devilish exultation, and all the old mad joy, in the depths of my

My dear Walt: I posted you six copies of the last circular this afternoon; I think that John Fraser has

Colles, then goes on to say something appreciative of my dear mother's Essays; wch which pleased and

You will be pleased to hear that I have got over my worries in connection with the contract for my Book

To create a small literary monument to my mother & this such an one should be clothed in pretty dress

With best love and remembrances to my dear old loving Walt Herbert H. Gilchrist.

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

Whitman writes about this in the passage Paumanok, and My Life on It as a Child and a Young Man, published

series of lectures & readings &c. through different cities of the north, to supply myself with funds for my

Brooklyn Tuesday even'g July 5 1864 My dear friend I have had the misfortune to fall back a little since

same as if written to her—I do not write much, nor do any thing hardly, but keep as quiet as possible—my

physician thinks that time, with the change of locality, & my own latent recuperative power, will make

I intend to move heaven & earth to publish my "Drum-Taps" as soon as I am able to go around.

love—also Ashton—I will write should there be any change in my condition— Good bye for present, my dear

Of the O'Connors, Thomas Jefferson Whitman wrote on June 13, 1863: "I am real glad, my dear Walt, that

O'Connor related in a letter on November 24, 1863, that the Count had said to her recently: "My Gott,

Dear William O'Connor: I was very ill after my arrival here—& made worse by the heat—but have recovered

Mother is well, & sends her love to you all—mother asked a great deal about Nelly, and also about Jenny— My

Price—but shall begin to explore, this week—& will report in my next— Dear Nelly, I had an unusually

my love— William, do you see how Mrs.

My address is 101 Portland av. opp. Arsenal Brooklyn, New York.

Think, oh my soul, devoutly think, How, with affrighted eyes, Thou saw'st the wide-extended deep In all

Yet then from all my griefs, on lord!

Thy mercy set me free; Whilst in the confidence of prayer My soul took hold on thee.

My life, if thou preserv'st my life, Thy sacrifice shall be, And death, if death must be my doom Shall

join my soul to thee.

WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol, still

it was not a happy night for me that fol- low follow'd ; And else, when I carous'd, or when my plans

ing undressing , bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my

all that day my food nourish'd me more—and the beautiful day pass'd well, And the next came with equal

joy—and with the next, at evening, came my friend; And that night, while all was still, I heard the

WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol, still

it was not a happy night for me that fol- low'd follow'd ; And else, when I carous'd, or when my plans

ing undressing , bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my

all that day my food nourish'd me more—and the beautiful day pass'd well, And the next came with equal

joy—and with the next, at evening, came my friend; And that night, while all was still, I heard the

WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol, still

it was not a happy night for me that follow'd, And else when I carous'd, or when my plans were accomplish'd

and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my

dear friend my lover was on his way coming, O then I was happy, O then each breath tasted sweeter, and

all that day my food nourish'd me more, and the beautiful day pass'd well, And the next came with equal

WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been received with plaudits in the capitol, still

it was not a happy night for me that fol- lowed followed ; And else, when I caroused, or when my plans

ing undressing , bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my

all that day my food nourished me more—And the beautiful day passed well, And the next came with equal

joy—And with the next, at evening, came my friend; And that night, while all was still, I heard the

WHEN I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv'd with plaudits in the capitol, still

it was not a happy night for me that follow'd, And else when I carous'd, or when my plans were accomplish'd

and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my

dear friend my lover was on his way coming, O then I was happy, O then each breath tasted sweeter, and

all that day my food nourish'd me more, and the beautiful day pass'd well, And the next came with equal

I am still here at Washington—every thing much the same in my condition as when you made your brief visit

here.— I continue well in health & good spirits—& as usual spend much more of my leisure in the open

I am very soon going on to New York to bring out a new edition of my poems—same as the copy you have,

—shall remain there until about 7 th of April—(my address there will be, 107 north Portland av.

I shall mail to you in a few days my latest piece, in a magazine.

As I approached my nineteenth year, my uncle, who was an honest and worthy man, evidently felt that he

money, which I felt sure he must have cramped himself to bestow on me, I made my adieus to my aunt and

sorrowful cousins, and went my way.

city where I was to take up my abode.

Yes, here I had come to seek my fortune!

Apl 18 1876 My dear sir Enclosed please find Money order for Five of 100 Dollars for a copy of Two Rivulets

, which please send to my address & to my name This subscription is from a lady client of mine yours

Seeger Since writing my note I have secured the promise of one subscription & possibly with it 2 more

In my copy, would solicit the pleasure of having your autograph signature on fly leaf.

My situation is rather a pleasant one.

There are many peculiarities in New Orleans that I shall jot down at my leisure in these pages.

My health was most capital; I frequently thought indeed that I felt better than ever before in my life

After changing my boarding house, Jef. and I were, take it altogether, pretty comfortable.

My own pride was touched—and I met their conduct with equal haughtiness on my part.

My dear Sir : I should like, if I can do so without impertinence, to send you my grateful thanks for

You have, through them, infused into my life and into the lives of many others, a fresher, healthier

I send you a paper which I read in October last in Warrington, Lancashire, and let my sincerity and enthusiasm

be my excuse for the utter inadequacy of treatment of a subject I both love and revere.

I remain, my dear sir, with grateful thanks, Thomas Tylston Greg.

My dear Mr.

Whitman I am trying my best to make up for the loss of my collection of Autographs a year or two since

me with yours and anything you can spare either Literary, Musical or dramatic and confer a favour on My

My address in Brooklyn is 132 Pacific St. I shall be here all this week.

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.

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.

don't say my say for me in the most conclusive way.

I am doing my job in my way: it don't suit them: they growl, curse, ridicule: but what is left for Walt

I have loved you for years with my whole heart and soul.

And yet I am a writer and make a living by my pen.

I am proud of my feeling for you.

My dear Sir, Some years ago when I had occasion to address you, you were so good as to say you should

be happy to hear from me again; and as my admiration of your works and interest in whatever concerns

you have rather strengthened than weakened, I feel sure you will not mind my asking one or two questions

As a faithful student of your books, I have made it my business to obtain every edition I could, and

When at my friend Mr W.B.

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

And to think my dearest brother you have been out. it It is wonderful good news to me.

I am trying to clean house, Walt dear, I do it all myself, but I take my time I have to.

—my carpets are all taken up down stairs downstairs (done cleaning up stairs upstairs glad to be able

to work even my way) Ime I'm slow enough, but do pretty well glad to stop a little while to write a

will you give my love to them, please.

My dear comrade, I have been very sick, and have been brought on home nearly three weeks ago, after being

sick some ten days in Washington—The doctors say my sickness is from having too deeply imbibed poison

into my system from the hospitals—I had spells of deathly faintness, & the disease also attacked my

as soon as I had strength—But I am making too long a story of it—I thought only to write you a line—My

dear comrade, I am now over the worst of it & have been getting better the last three days—my brother

I never think of you but it makes my heart glad to think that I have bin permited to know one so good

This man (whose frame, as I afterward found, was no mean type of the generous heart within) came to my

bed, sat down, & after some talk with me wrote a letter to my parents in Michigan.

This act secured my gratitude & we became intimately acquainted & close friends—Being furloughed in July

an ugly bullet hole through my left lung that time finding a lodgment at Armory Sqr.

My friend was still in Washington, we met, & our intimacy was renewed and again abruptly broken off in

Poem in the 1856 edition of Leaves of Grass: "The best I had done seemed to me blank and suspicious, / My

The lines "I am too great to be a mere President or Major General / I remain with my fellows—with mechanics

fool and the wise thinker" may be related to a similar phrase in the poem eventually titled Who Learns My