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Whitman was at Glendale from March 18 to 22, March 26 to 30, and April 2 to 7 (Whitman's Commonplace

should be)—Tom, I often think of you all, & of the last night we all got together, & of the friendly parting

will write again as I have just rec'd received yours of 26—a little wild & nervous & uncertain some parts

On the back Whitman wrote a draft of what would become part of Specimen Days. Marie R.

Yet, according to John Burroughs's letter to Whitman on November 2, 1880, Kennedy was angered by Edmund

editor & writer—Coleridge was an Englishman—both dead—I hope you will read the piece yourself—that is part

is the duty of the League in his neighbourhood to accept such proceedings—such prosecution on his part—or

431 Stevens Street Camden New Jersey Feb: 2 '81 Thanks for your kind note just rec'd received —I think

shall meet—I shall be on the look out for you— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to Louise Chandler Moulton, 2

431 Stevens Street Camden New Jersey Feb: 2 '81 Dear Sir Yours of Jan: 31 just rec'd received .

Walt Whitman Walt Whitman | Feb. 2/81 settled o.k. | F.H.R. Walt Whitman to Frank H.

Ransom, 2 February 1881

Whitman made the following note in his Commonplace Book on February 2: "Sent a set Two Vols: to Frank

suppose you & the rest are reading Herbert's books from time to time—though they are very queer in the story

a nice visit from Harry and Mont—there is nothing new or interesting to write you—it is now ½ past 2,

See Michael Davitt, The Fall of Feudalism in Ireland: or The Story of the Land League Revolution (New

The poem was eventually published in Kottabos, 4.1 (1882), 1–2.

not get mad worth a cent —True religion ( the most beautiful thing in the whole world , & the best part

See the letter from Whitman to Harry Stafford of January 2, 1881.

"The Poetry of the Future" (see the letter from Whitman to Harry Stafford of January 2, 1881).

Whitman made the following note in his Commonplace Book on February 2: "Sent a set Two Vols: to Frank

See also Whitman's letter to Ransom of February 2, 1881.

Camden Sunday afternoon Jan January 2 Dear friend Susan & Dear friends all We are having an awful spell

—Susan I sent you a little book & one to Kate—did they come?

Love to you & George— W W Walt Whitman to Susan Stafford, 2 January 1881

Camden Jan: 2 '81 Dear Hank I hear from you indirectly once in a while by Hoag, (& saw Debbie & Jo some

bells—Dear boy, I send you my best love & dont you forget it— Your old Walt Walt Whitman to Harry Stafford, 2

Ingersoll sent on March 25, 1880 (see the letter from Whitman to Ingersoll on April 2, 1880).

Parts of the essay were used for Death of Thomas Carlyle published in Specimen Days in 1882 (later retained

(No. 2.), which was published in the Critic on April 9, 1881.

Though he did not include this essay as a whole in Specimen Days & Collect (1882–83), Whitman reprinted parts

It is postmarked: Camden | Jan | 2 | N.J.; (?) N.W. | E | Paid 20 Ja 81.

life a share or more or less, None born but it is born, conceal'd or unconceal'd the seed is waiting. 2

pert apparel, the deform'd attitude, drunkenness, greed, pre- mature premature death, all these I part

sending itself ahead countless years to come. 2 O but it is not the years—it is I, it is You, We touch

and am all and believe in all, I believe materialism is true and spiritualism is true, I reject no part

(Have I forgotten any part? any thing in the past?

fish-shaped island, As I wended the shores I know, As I walk'd with that electric self seeking types. 2

utmost a little wash'd-up drift, A few sands and dead leaves to gather, Gather, and merge myself as part

the river pois'd, the twain yet one, a moment's lull, A motionless still balance in the air, then parting

flung out from the steeples of churches and from all the public buildings and stores, The tearful parting

, the mother kisses her son, the son kisses his mother, (Loth is the mother to part, yet not a word does

THE CENTENARIAN'S STORY.

Volunteer of 1861-2, (at Washington Park, Brooklyn, assisting the Centenarian.)

in myself—aye, long ago as it is, I took part in it, Walking then this hilltop, this same ground.

to me you bring, Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west, And thought of him I love. 2

of him for the day or a certain part of the day, Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.

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

The field-sprouts of Fourth-month and Fifth-month became part of him, Winter-grain sprouts and those

Perhaps every mite has once form'd part of a sick person—yet behold!

What is prudence is indivisible, Declines to separate one part of life from every part, Divides not the

appointed days that forgive not, I dispense from this side judgments inexorable without the least remorse. 2

the ceaseless ferry, faces and faces and faces, I see them and complain not, and am content with all. 2

thy notes, Now pouring, whirling like a tempest round me, Now low, subdued, now in the distance lost. 2

, Lone, sulky, through the time's thick murk looking in vain for light, for hope, From unsuspected parts

Cluster: Songs of Parting. (1881) SONGS OF PARTING. AS THE TIME DRAWS NIGH.

Your horizon rises, I see it parting away for more august dramas, I see not America only, not only Liberty's

advancing with irresistible power on the world's stage, (Have the old forces, the old wars, played their parts

all its horrors, serves, And how now or at any time each serves the exquisite transition of death. 2

what was promis'd, When through these States walk a hundred millions of superb persons, When the rest part

Put in thy chants said he, No more the puzzling hour nor day, nor segments, parts, put in, Put first

the hermit thrush from the swamp-cedars, Solitary, singing in the West, I strike up for a New World. 2

wend, they never stop, Successions of men, Americanos, a hundred millions, One generation playing its part

and passing on, Another generation playing its part and passing on in its turn, With faces turn'd sideways

let others ignore what they may, I make the poem of evil also, I commemorate that part also, I am myself

I will not make poems with reference to parts, But I will make poems, songs, thoughts, with reference

harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, Nature without check with original energy. 2

overseer views them from his saddle, The bugle calls in the ball-room, the gentlemen run for their part

Parting track'd by arriving, perpetual payment of perpetual loan, Rich showering rain, and recompense

I take part, I see and hear the whole, The cries, curses, roar, the plaudits for well-aim'd shots, The

, any thing is but a part.

2 The love of the body of man or woman balks account, the body itself balks account, That of the male

I dare not desert the likes of you in other men and women, nor the likes of the parts of you, I believe

bones and the marrow in the bones, The exquisite realization of health; O I say these are not the parts

earth, All the governments, judges, gods, follow'd persons of the earth, These are contain'd in sex as parts

Now we have met, we have look'd, we are safe, Return in peace to the ocean my love, I too am part of

shall be lawless, rude, illiterate, he shall be one condemn'd by others for deeds done, I will play a part

—no; But merely of two simple men I saw to-day on the pier in the midst of the crowd, parting the parting

2 Within me latitude widens, longitude lengthens, Asia, Africa, Europe, are to the east—America is provided

factories, palaces, hovels, huts of barbarians, tents of nomads upon the surface, I see the shaded part

on one side where the sleepers are sleeping, and the sunlit part on the other side, I see the curious

I see the cities of the earth and make myself at random a part of them, I am a real Parisian, I am a

it is impossible for me to get rid of them, I am fill'd with them, and I will fill them in return.) 2

evident and amicable with me. 4 The earth expanding right hand and left hand, The picture alive, every part

remain behind you, What beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer with passionate kisses of parting

All parts away for the progress of souls, All religion, all solid things, arts, governments—all that

from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose. 2

the day, The simple, compact, well-join'd scheme, myself disintegrated, every one disintegrated yet part

air floating with motionless wings, oscillating their bodies, Saw how the glistening yellow lit up parts

play the part that looks back on the actor or actress!

toward eternity, Great or small, you furnish your parts toward the soul.

his own and bestows it upon men, and any man translates, and any man translates himself also, One part

does not counteract another part, he is the joiner, he sees how they join.

strangely transmutes them, They are not vile any more, they hardly know themselves they are so grown. 2

Perfect sanity shows the master among philosophs, Time, always without break, indicates itself in parts

all so dear to me—what you are, (whatever it is,) I putting it at random in these songs, become a part

Mannahatta in itself, Singing the song of These, my ever-united lands—my body no more inevitably united, part

to part, and made out of a thousand diverse contributions one identity, any more than my lands are inevitably

gayly or returning in the afternoon, my brood of tough boys accompanying me, My brood of grown and part-grown

emblem, dabs of music, Fingers of the organist skipping staccato over the keys of the great organ. 2

grass been growing, Long and long has the rain been falling, Long has the globe been rolling round. 2

ecstatic rose the chant, As if the heirs, the deities of the West, Joining with master-tongue bore part

indications, the vistas of coming humanity, the settlements, features all, In the Mendocino woods I caught. 2

2 Souls of men and women!

the best poems re-appears the body, man's or woman's, well- shaped well-shaped , natural, gay, Every part

losing, Of all able and ready at any time to give strict account, The divine ship sails the divine sea. 2

menacing might of the globe uprisen around me, Yet there with my soul I fed, I fed content, supercilious. 2

The Centenarian's Story. THE CENTENARIAN'S STORY.

Volunteer of 1861-2, (at Washington Park, Brooklyn, assisting the Centenarian.)

As wending the crowds now part and disperse—but we old man, Not for nothing have I brought you hither—we

eighty-five years a-gone no mere parade receiv'd with applause of friends, But a battle which I took part

in myself—aye, long ago as it is, I took part in it, Walking then this hilltop, this same ground.

2 O maidens and young men I love and that love me, What you ask of my days those the strangest and sudden