Search Results

My Dear friend Walt Whitman I have written so many letters to you dictated by Charles that I feel a painful

although I thought he was likely to die any time, still I find I was unprepared for his departure & my

I look at my three children & think what a work I have got left to perform.

My Mother from Massachusetts is with me for a few days and it is a great comfort.

New Haven, Conn see notes Dec 18 1888 from Mrs Hine | ab't my dear friend C.H. Mrs.

"I would like to go on record as having a feeling of the utmost friendliness to all my fellow poets.

As to my works, I am in a peculiar position.

My works 'Leaves of Grass,' and my prose work, 'Specimen Days,' are printed and on sale, but still I

As I grow older I become the more confirmed in my adherence to my original theories.

Grant, in which are embodied all my original theories.

He sat eating and talking during nearly the whole time of my stay.

my preference.

But neither do some of my friends understand my love for the prairies—my statement, insistence, that

But I understand why I make my claim—I know—I see its justification—its necessity.

Fixed up my Gutekunst picture for me as I waited.

me—it is urgent, persistent: he sort of stands in the road and says: 'I won't movetilluntil you answer my

I have had my own troubles—I have seen other men with troubles, too—worse than mine and not so bad as

This is my permanent address.

Yet I felt that if you liked my poem [See In Re Walt Whitman] you would write.

to you to have arrogantly confounded your own fine thought and pure feeling with the baser metal of my

I am still kept in my sick room, (but no worse)—My book printing goes on smoothly—My "Notes," such as

they are, on E[lias] H[icks] among the rest—the bunch of golden rods on my table as I write— Walt Whitman

My life and recitative, containing birth, youth, mid-age years, Fitful as motley-tongues of flame, inseparably

twined and merged in one—combining all, My single soul—aims, confirmations, failures, joys—Nor single

soul alone, I chant my nation's crucial stage, (America's, haply humanity's) —the trial great, the victory

common bulk, the general average horde, (the best no sooner than the worst)—And now I chant old age, (My

snow-white hairs the same, and give to pulses winter- cool'd the same;) As here in careless trill, I and my

My dear beloved son dont don't be worried about me i hope i shall be all right again my nervious nervous

very much out of order i know i have brought in on by worrying but i cant can't seem to get over it my

head feels bad sometimes my rheumatics is better if i could be with you dear walt Walt i would be glad

wish but i hope i shall get a better appetite some time as i have such trembling spels spells its all my

England Mar 26 th 1892 My Dear good old Friend Just a line to you by tonights mail to send you my love

once more—always that, always that—& the best I possess, along with my warmest sympathy.

Though I do not write much—for I fear to trouble you—my Love knows no lessening.

I have got my dear good old father staying here with me & am very happy to have him too.

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

dear boy—and though you must now be indeed quite different from the little child I used to lift up in my

In response to your letter I send—not my whole volume of Leaves of Grass —but Drum-Taps , a part of it

published by John Burroughs, who, being a great friend of mine, views every thing relating to me & my

—I send you my love, & I wish you to give my friendliest remembrances to your parents.

earliest convenience, to return my answers thereto in writing.

Before my appointment to my present office, I was a lawyer.

In my youth, before my first entering the public service, I had not adopted a permanent occupation. 5

I was educated by my parents, and by solitary study. 6.

The law clerk's hours are similar to my own.

December 3, 1867.My dear Mr.

I cannot and will not consent of my own volition to countenance an expurgated edition of my pieces.

I boil: burn up: but often I keep my mouth shut: I am a slow mover: I don't hurry even in my tantrums

That infernal damned meter's getting on my nerves.

"My head and my heels tell me so."

miner in California; Or rude in my home in Dakota's woods, my diet meat, my drink from the spring; Or

place, with my own day, here.

My comrade!

my intrepid nations! O I at any rate include you all with perfect love!

steamers steaming through my poems!

home in Kanuck woods, Or wandering and hunting, my drink water, my diet meat, Or withdrawn to muse and

In the Year 80 of The States, My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air, Born

Take my leaves, America!

My comrade!

steamers steaming through my poems!

; Or rude in my home in Dakotah's woods, my diet meat, my drink from the spring; Or withdrawn to muse

place, with my own day, here.

My comrade!

my intrepid nations! O I at any rate include you all with perfect love!

steamers steaming through my poems!

Saturday, April 2, 1892All the papers moved to my house today. Bucke took supper at McAlister's.

without an owner: Anderton, near ChorleyLancashire, England15 March 1892Dear Walt,Just a line or two, my

dearest friend, my comrade & father, dearest of all to my soul, to express the triumph & joy & cheer

with which I think of you & with which I receive tidings of you.Outwardly sad enough, but deep within my

Be it as if I were with you, & here upon the paper I send you one as a token of my dearest love.

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

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

parrots in the woods, I see the papaw-tree and the blos- soming blossoming titi; Again, sailing in my

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

parrots in the woods, I see the papaw-tree and the blos- soming blossoming titi; Again, sailing in my

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

that's about the best I can say—continue to get out a little every day when the weather will permit—but my

last night) is to wear over—I got the stuff, it is first rate Middlesex flannel, cost $5, (same as my

necessary—must then be washed by some one experienced in washing nice flannels—I sent Graphic with my

portrait —(as they sent me some)—also my Capitol letter —I rec'd your good letter last Tuesday Dear

Nash—give them both my love—(I see just a line in the paper that Mr.

see if they would reach you—I was very much disappointed when I went to Armory that evening to find my

Thuey, did you take the envelope you had with my address?

you need not mind ceremony—there is no need of ceremony between dear friends for that I hope we are, my

together again—good by, dear boy, from your true friend— Thuey, I enclose an envelope but will write my

be afraid, my darling comrade—it is little, but it may be some use—Thuey, you write to me just as you

Room 56 Borden Block, Chicago, Feby 3d 188 7 My dear and honoured Walt Whitman:— It is less than a year

I was attracted by the curious title "Leaves of Grass", opened the book at random, and my eyes met the

In the "Spring Song" and the "Song of the Depths" my orbit responded to the new attracting sun.

Imagine that I have expressed to you my sincere conviction of what I owe.

The essay is my "first effort," at the age of 30.

Camden Thursday Evening June 2 My dear friend I suppose it must look fine down there after the heavy

fruit & grain— Nothing very new with me—the big Boston house has sent me word that they will publish my

stands now—I find I can have them publish it, if I choose, but I suppose I am getting pretty lofty in my

old days & must have my own terms, & pretty good ones too— I am feeling pretty well—I think my last

, & a prospect of some pleasant days, sufficiently cool— I am alone in the house, have been all day—My

My Dear Freind Walter.

It is with mutch pleasure that I take my pen in hand to inform you that I am well and that my leg is

I have had a good many of my young friends to see me.

My Father and Mother are well and send their respects to you for Mother says whoeve[r] did me a faivor

I expect that you still visit the Hospital if so give my respects to the boys I have nothing more to

My Dear Friend, I have been thinking about writing you at Brooklyn but as I did not know for certain

have thought of you very often since I saw you and would have gone to Brooklyn to see you again had my

have not been out much since I saw you as the weather would not admit and when the weather is stormy my

her as you know I have good reason to thank her for many a kind turn which she wrought for me during my

Please tell Mr Woods (if you see him) I am enjoying good health and I send my kind regards to him and

I send my friendliest remembrances & good wishes. And to my ever dear friends, Mrs.

—We have had a snowy day—as I look out of my window the ground is white in every direction—William has

bad cold, has not been down to work to-day, but has just come down town, & is this moment sitting by my

are going to have exciting times generally—but I guess no appeal to arms— I have heard lately from my

dear mother—she is well as usual—Emma Price can tell you more directly about her, as I hear, (to my

Louis, April 18th 1869 Wm O'Connor Esq My dear friend The package of "Reports" and afterwards your letter

received—I intended before this to write you and return thanks for the same—but like many other of my

you for the Reports—they furnished me with just the information I needed and you will please receive my

other reports of a like nature  I am very greedy to get these things and shall probably show it in my

the change of "government" will not hurt either you or him I remember with a great deal of pleasure my

JohnRietz"My Picture-Gallery" (1880)"My Picture-Gallery" (1880)First published in The American in 1880

and incorporated into Leaves of Grass in 1881, "My Picture-Gallery" is a (revised) six-line excerpt

My Picture-Gallery," which originally served to set up the 115-line catalogue of "Pictures," is a riddle

With the catalogue of "Pictures" excised, the emphasis of "My Picture-Gallery" is shifted away from the

"My Picture-Gallery" (1880)

328 Mickle Street Camden Dec: 21 '85 My dear friend Real glad to hear from you once more, as by yours

Seems to me mortality never enclosed a more beautiful spirit— The trouble ab't my eyesight passed over

had dinner &c—I go there every Sunday—So I get stirr'd up some, but not half enough—three reasons, my

natural sluggishness & the paralysis of late years, the weather, & my old, stiff, slow horse, with a

better—he gives up for the present his European tour, but is coming here soon for a week—As I close, my

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

June 29 My dear friends John and 'Sula Burroughs, I am here again in Camden, stopping awhile, with the

there—staid about a couple of weeks—obtained two months leave of absence, & (after almost making up my

been for about two weeks—(I think comparatively better the last two days)—occupying the rooms in which my

in life & heart left by the death of my mother is what will never to me be filled— I am comfortably

hour or two every day, while I am in this condition—The last nine or ten days in Washington, I left my

The misfortune of the case is, that he happens to be married to my sister. You know the Mrs.

side, who commerces my anxieties, troubles, trials—my brotherly affections—and my sister there, she

Why," he added, "I always went in my early days to the 25-cent place in the theatre, and it was my breath

My early life especially was full of it.

My intimate friends would have their best fun with a man who brought them such a doubt!"

Also said: "I have great faith in my power of endurance.

I have no doubt now but I shall hold out my time—that is, I shall not hasten my death by anything I do

cause—make my cause theirs: quite a cluster.

It was a tempting offer—it pulled at my heart-strings: my friends over there all said, come, you will

Even some of my friends here said, go: and some were angry when I decided not to: but my own heart never

Indeed, all through those years—that period—I was at my best—physically at my best, mentally, every way

though shining out very brightly by fits and starts, seemed incapable of conveying any warmth, I took my

hat, which I was able to keep on my head not without considerable effort.

My flesh quivered with the bitter coldness of the air. My breath appeared steam. Qu-foo-o!

I gave an extra pull of my hat over my brows—a closer adjustment of my collar around my shoulders, and

way homeward, imbue my fancy with a kindred glee and joyousness!

as two—as my soul and I; and I gu reckon it is the same with all oth men and women.— I know that my

trousers around my boots, and my cuffs back from my wrists and go among the rough drivers and boatmen

I tell you just as beautiful to die; For I take my death with the dying And my birth with the new-born

lips, to the palms of my hands, and whatever my hands hold.

hands, and my head my head mocked with a prickly I am here after I remember crucifixion and bloody coronation

And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life?

(As if any man really knew aught of my life, Why even I myself I often think know little or nothing of

my real life, Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections I seek for my own use to

And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life?

(As if any man really knew aught of my life, Why even I myself I often think know little or nothing of

my real life, Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections I seek for my own use to

328 Mickle Street Camden New Jersey July 28 '86 My dear Redpath Yours of 26th rec'd—All right & no harm

done—But I mortally hate to have any thing with my name signed go to press without my seeing proof—Also

I wanted the slips—Yes I will furnish you the (ab't) seven page article you request, & soon —My health

Dear & honoured Friend & Master I thank you from my heart for the gift of your great book—that beautiful

But my heart has not the power to make my brain & hands tell you how much I thank you.

I cannot even attempt to tell yourself (upon this page of paper with this pen in my hand), what it is

If my health, riven to the bottom like a tree in me, twelve years ago,—& the cares of a family, complicated

reliance on you, & my hope that you will not disapprove of my conduct in the last resort.

As usual, having to answer my question, he spoke first of his health.

They would come over to interview me—insist on knowing my sensations!

(my book). Glad to hear of your new books. Am still reading proof.

But read the letters: I'd rather refresh my memory a bit with 'em." 36, Marlborough Hill,St.

Not that of 1855; for I hear that can be had for three or four.When at my friend Mr. W. B.

with bends and chutes, And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri, The

My limbs, my veins dilate, my theme is clear at last, Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing

VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night; When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day

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

Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!

with bends and chutes, And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri, The

My limbs, my veins dilate, my theme is clear at last, Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing

VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night; When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day

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

Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!

Belmont Mass April 19. '86 My Dear Poet: Your postal rec'd. received I have completed (rough finish)

my seven chapters on you.

It is the most scholarly, fiery, and heavy-artillery piece of work I have yet done; took all my strength

I have got in my cellar, Walt, about 50 bottles of elderberry cordial—fine, smacky, made by myself last

My grand poet, my friend Yours as ever W.S. Kennedy How's the pony? Paper also!! good!

There is nothing new or noteworthy in my own affairs.

I keep fashioning & shaping my books at my leisure, & hope to put them in type the current year.

You speak of my prose preface to first "Leaves of Grass."

I am writing this at my desk in the Treasury building here, an immense pile, in which our office occupies

From my large open window I have an extensive view of sky, Potomac river, hills & fields of Virginia,

I gaze at the Sea while I eat my food and think of thee. . . . and often while I gaze thereon I think

I have been about sick with a cold on my lungs, and after my days work was done I did not feel like writing

I am going to give up my place the first of Ap r .

My health will not admit of it.

Often when my mind wanders back to the days that I spent in Armory Square, I can but cry.

My Hearts desire is that you may live a long and happy life and when you leave this Earth you may be

431 Stevens Street Camden Oct October 2 My dear girls (for this letter is for you both) I will just write

you a few lines without formality— It is evening—has just struck 8—I am sitting up in my room alone—I

pleasant ride out to the Park in the open car, this afternoon— return'd returned about an hour ago, & had my

get along pretty much in the old way— To-day Today I rec'd received an order for five full sets of my

books from England, accompanied by the money —(which of course doesn't hurt my feelings a bit)— havn't

Louis, Mo., Jan. 26th, 1888 My dear Jessie My darling girl , I enclose you a check for $50, hoping it

before you leave Burlington I got home from Ark yesterday, after a pretty hard time—I had to abandon my

I suppose I shall be gone about a week  Mr Smith of Leavenworth was at my office on Monday last and came

to—No I must make the best of what is wanted now—I presume I shall have lots of time after awhile— Well my

place—and if he does I would like to have you go Nothing new with me—I am feeling fairly well—except I have my

KarenWolfe"Good-Bye my Fancy!" (1891)"Good-Bye my Fancy!"

1891)The concluding poem of the Second Annex to the "authorized" 1891–1892 Leaves of Grass, "Good-Bye my

"Good-Bye my Fancy!"

"Good-Bye my Fancy!"

"Good-Bye my Fancy!" (1891)

I was in hopes that you would not hear of our Regts being in the fight untill you got my letter.

How my name came to be in the papers I cant see, as I was very careful not to report myself in the list

of wounded in my company, but I think Colonel Potter who saw the scratch on my face, must have aded

my name to the list little thinking I suppose how much uneasyness it would cause at home.

Jeff write me often, and give my love to all. George W.