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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.

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.

Dec December 11 '76 My dear Linton I have been for some weeks down in the country—half moping like—yet

I have been waiting for the chance to get from the bindery, or from my stack, (as I unwrap the books)

you want—I have it in mind, & shall get it so, & send it you— Meantime, let this remorseful note be my

apology— —My address here is still the same— Walt Whitman Camden New Jersey Walt Whitman to William

Washington March 24, '68 My dear Mr.

conversation between us a few days since, allow me in candor to say, that I should decidedly prefer to retain my

Record Clerk, the duties of which I feel that I can fulfil properly—& that I would therefore, as far as my

Browning's part, would I deem it my duty to waive the preference mentioned, & obey your commands.

Camden Dec December 19/1875 1876 My dear Johnston, Yours of yesterday rec'd.

My nephew & I when traveling always share the same room together & the same bed, & would like best to

I want to bring on a lot of my books, new edition, & sell them, so I can raise a little money (—& that

is what my young man is for.)

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

328 Mickle Street Camden New Jersey May 3, '87 Your letter rec'd & welcomed as always—My visit to N Y

was a hasty flash only—I am more & more wretchedly physically disabled, & feel better off here in my

G—but I doubt whether it contains much (or any thing) for you—I can loan you my copy if you wish—I will

certainly keep you posted ab't myself, or any literary movement or change or happening of my work— Walt

My dear niece, I received your nice good letter—and also Hattie's a week or two before —& have been very

I am not much different in my health—no worse. All the rest here are well.

This little cut picture was one I intended to send last Christmas, but it got lost in my papers—so I

enclose it now, for fun— Best love to you, dear child, & to my dear Hattie too, from Uncle Walt— I will

.: "GoodBye My Fancy 2d Annex to LofG". Did he propose to put his name on title-page? No.

Longaker said they had nothing at all to do with my depression, but I stopped them today.

My sleep didn't amount to a small coin.

My belly kept me awake—yes, awake and awake—which is unusual, for in my own way, as a usual thing, I

And then, "But I have just had my dinner—and ate heartily—and took a couple of swallows of the wine.

In the afternoon the books, I dont don't know how to settle down my thoughts calmly enough to write,

I have not shut my eyes to the difficulties and trials & responsibilities (for the childrens children's

discontent with old England or by any adverse circumstances here which I might hope to better there—my

reasons, emotions, the sources of my strength and courage for the uprooting & transplanting—all are

That America has brought them forth makes me want to plant some, at least, of my children on her soil

spell—ten days, two of them quite serious—but am somewhat better—am sitting up anyhow writing this, but my

brain is flabby—my grip weak—The doctor speaks of a pronounc'd gastric trouble, from long indigestion—No

Solitude" —have no doubt it is a total invention (not to use the word fraud wh' is perfectly proper)—my

are a good many such—it might be worth while to stamp them peremptorily in future—I have included all my

a good strong willing nurse , & good doctoring watch—I send my love & memories to Mrs: F., to Baxter,

My eye got open at last, but is still bleary and bad."

My cold hangs on, though not so bad as at first.

The state of the weather, & my cold, &c. have rather blocked me from having my usual enjoyment here,

trouble)—I go out a couple of hours middle of the day, but keep in nights— —I have got the new edition of my

enclosed, as you may need it—Should you want more, you write, as I have plenty—I am writing this up in my

butter—every thing tip-top—get along well enough—you must try to do the same—so good bye, for this time, my

Tuesday Mar 25 1862 Walt Whitman My dear Mr.

My social position enjoins precaution & mystery, and perhaps the enjoyment of my friend's society is

heightened which in yielding to its fascination I preserve my incognito; yet mystery lends an ineffable

—You have already my whereabouts & my hours—It shall only depend upon you to make them yours and me the

Camden Sunday Sept: September 10 My dear friend I went round last evening to call on Mrs Rogers, & thought

yesterday—he is well & hearty & seems to be having good times—I shall write to him to-day—Well the work on my

new book "Specimen Days" is finished, & I feel as if a troublesome job was off my hands The enclosed

the pond, the first three summers '76, '77 and '78 I was down there at your house—We could not get my

miles from Philadelphia— (While I am writing this it is a very pleasant quiet Sunday—as I sit here by my

you can keep posted, & make whatever mention, if any, accurately— but would rather not myself only my

In connection let me state that I am putting a new book in type, my Prose Works , called Specimen Days

, & Collect , about 380 pages—gives a lot of random typical days, diary fashion, during my life—& then

swoops pell mell my past literary papers, essays &c. in the Collect , (like fish in a net)—is to be

a companion Vol to my Poems—Is to be pub. published by Rees Welsh & Co: 23 South 9th st.

My dear William & Nelly O'Connor, I write a few lines to tell you how I find the folks at home—Both my

My brother would be in what I would almost call fair condition, if it were not that his legs are affected—it

I find myself perplexed about printing my book.

My brother Jeff wishes me to give you his sincerest thanks for your good will &c in the matter of the

My sister at Burlington Vt. is not well, & mother will probably pay a long visit there this summer.

To state the latest: this morning (Sunday) I got up and prepared my own breakfast as usual (and after

having went over my garden (until 10 o'clock, I quietly took a chair and sat down to enjoy a perusal

I threw down the paper indignantly, and seizing my boots and coat retired to the kitchen, and shut the

But I was pursued there, and could not escape without forcing my way; but I came out of the encounter

with the back of my right hand so badly lacerated by her nails, that I am compelled to bandage it.

It is now Thursday afternoon, between 3 and 4—& I am writing this in my room in Portland av.

Pete, one month of my leave exactly is up to-day.

On my way back, I went up in the pilot house & sailed across the river three times—a fine breeze blowing

Then home—took a bath—ate my dinner—& here I am all alone, most stript stripped , taking things as cool

I work several hours a day keeping things straight among the printers & founders, on my books.

Pete, you say my sickness must be worse than I described in my letters—& ask me to write precisely how

Yesterday I thought I felt as strong & well as ever in my life—in fact real young & jolly.

It is now towards 3—Mother & I have just had our dinner, (my mammy's own cooking mostly.)

Pete, the fourth week of my vacation is most ended. I shall return the middle of next week.

Give my love to Johnny Lee —let him read this letter, & then return it to you.

Oct 1891 7. pm Dear Walt, Here I am in Albany on my way south.

I hope with all my heart that things have gone well with you & that when I do hear, the news will be

My coming to Camden on Monday will be contingent on Ingersoll's lecturing that evening—as I want to hear

For when I saw you, you reminded me strangely & strongly of my dear mother, & I almost felt as though

God bless you for all you have done & been to me & to my friends (lovers of you).

Now my voice is stronger, I ask, why will you not speak to me?

For the first time I act as my nature prompts me.

This is my mode of life:—At dusk I reach some village, a few grass huts by the sea or in some valley.

You will easily imagine, my dear sir, how delightful I find this life.

My address is San Francisco, Cal Box 1005. P. O. I shall immediately return there.

I saw O'Grady's article in the December "Gentleman's" & from my point of view, he dwells on what I like

perhaps (besides being good fun) the only way to bring out the splendid ardor & friendship of those, my

unknown friends, my best reward, art & part with me, in my pages, (for I have come to solace & perhaps

My condition physically is pretty much the same—no worse, at least not decidedly.

deal on the ferry, full of life & fun to me—get down there by our horse cars, which run along near my

Dear Rudolf Schmidt The Danish edition Demokratiske Fremblik , of my Democratic Vistas , has reached

I suppose you rec'd received my letter from here of Jan. 25—about my illness, paralysis—(& the papers

Tribune , with a poem, (my latest,) Prayer of Columbus So you will see I cannot desist from writing,

Don't fail, my dear friend, to write me at least as soon as you return.

Graphic ) with acc't account of my illness —also February Harper's , and the , by this mail—I like to

Inflating my throat—you, divine average! You, Earth and Life, till the last ray gleams, I sing.

Open mouth of my Soul, uttering gladness, Eyes of my Soul, seeing perfection, Natural life of me, faithfully

To prepare for sleep, for bed—to look on my rose- color'd rose-color'd flesh; To be conscious of my body

How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around! How the clouds pass silently overhead!

sail'd down the Mississippi, As I wander'd over the prairies, As I have lived—As I have look'd through my

Scented Herbage of My Breast. SCENTED HERBAGE OF MY BREAST.

SCENTED herbage of my breast, Leaves from you I glean, I write, to be perused best afterwards, Tomb-leaves

O blossoms of my blood!

grow up out of my breast! Spring away from the conceal'd heart there!

Do not remain down there so ashamed, herbage of my breast!

Inflating my throat—you, divine average! You, Earth and Life, till the last ray gleams, I sing.

Open mouth of my Soul, uttering gladness, Eyes of my Soul, seeing perfection, Natural life of me, faithfully

To prepare for sleep, for bed—to look on my rose- color'd rose-color'd flesh, To be conscious of my body

How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around! How the clouds pass silently overhead!

win- dows windows , my eyes, As I went forth in the morning—As I beheld the light breaking in the east

SPLENDOR of ended day floating and filling me, Hour prophetic, hour resuming the past, Inflating my throat

Open mouth of my soul uttering gladness, Eyes of my soul seeing perfection, Natural life of me faithfully

To prepare for sleep, for bed, to look on my rose-color'd flesh!

To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large! To be this incredible God I am!

How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around! How the clouds pass silently overhead!

SPLENDOR of falling day, floating and filling me, Hour prophetic—hour resuming the past, Inflating my

Open mouth of my Soul, uttering gladness, Eyes of my Soul, seeing perfection, Natural life of me, faithfully

To prepare for sleep, for bed—to look on my rose- colored flesh, To be conscious of my body, so amorous

How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around! How the clouds pass silently overhead!

sailed down the Mississippi, As I wandered over the prairies, As I have lived—As I have looked through my

Scented Herbage of My Breast. SCENTED HERBAGE OF MY BREAST.

SCENTED herbage of my breast, Leaves from you I glean, I write, to be perused best afterwards, Tomb-leaves

O blossoms of my blood!

grow up out of my breast! Spring away from the conceal'd heart there!

Do not remain down there so ashamed, herbage of my breast!

SPLENDOR of ended day floating and filling me, Hour prophetic, hour resuming the past, Inflating my throat

Open mouth of my soul uttering gladness, Eyes of my soul seeing perfection, Natural life of me faithfully

To prepare for sleep, for bed, to look on my rose-color'd flesh!

To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large! To be this incredible God I am!

How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around! How the clouds pass silently overhead!

He had a strikingly positive blue gown on which at once attracted my eye and occasioned remark.

It is a present from my sister, George's wife."

my dear! You've come again!"

Jenkins, of the American, returned my article on O'Connor as "too eulogistic."

It's as bad as it used to be when I sent Mary out a-searching for my socks.

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

than you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my

forever held in solution, I too had receiv'd identity by my body, That I was I knew was of my body,

What is more subtle than this which ties me to the woman or man that looks in my face?

Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you? We understand then do we not?

loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!

than you suppose, And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my

forever held in solution, I too had receiv'd identity by my body, That I was I knew was of my body,

What is more subtle than this which ties me to the woman or man that looks in my face?

Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you? We understand then do we not?

loudly and musically call me by my nighest name! Live, old life!

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!

Harned said something which disparaged my politics.

, or, Give him my love.

Lots of my fish fight shy of my rod for a long time but I eventually game them all."

I keep freshening and shaping my books at my leisure, and hope to put them in type the coming year.You

I keep it in my prose volume.

I have friends, enough money, comfort—as good things as my age, my condition, will permit.

guard, my promise, yet past all possibility of demand.

I almost think if I had to ask fulfillment, the rock, now my saviour, my peace, would be my wreck, my

ruin, my night!

But you cannot know how these days of my waiting, this night-coming time of my life, are confident, happy

My dear Rudolf Schmidt , My lonesomeness & sickness here, (for I am still sick, & here,) have been much

rejoiced to–day today by my getting your good & copious letter of 28th February, on your return to Kopenhagen

copies Demokratiske Fremblik , & one copy in sheets—also three copies picture paper Folkeblad , with my

Tribune ) my two latest pieces Song of the Redwood Tree , (California,) and Prayer of Columbus , which

the head—walk hardly any, (from the paralysis,) but maintain good spirits, keep up in body & face, (my

arrangements and returned and told him all about it which pleased him very much, he put his arms around my

another room and when it got close to the wall an oven door opened and in went the rod and pan with my

friend vanishing away like a snow flake before my eyes. that thought then as well as now crowded into

These are part of what thoughts were crowding in my brain as I stood watching for one hour till my friend

Cooper vanished away before my eyes. so I felt I must tell you that there is a new Crematory built in

R Bedford Penn a Pennsylvania July 31st 85 My Dear Mr Whitman I am here in these mountains and all around

I will follow in the footsteps of my parents as in their young days they did the very same thing.

Having been told so many times at my mothers knee of how she did these things when she was young.

Soul to do these things over again as my parents did them.

I see many friends and many who were friends of my Father and Mother.

mornin dated the 13 and was very glad to hear from yo i am not very well i have good dele of pain in my

away an then we must all sooner or later give up this world— i had a few lines from home this morning my

little girl is sick and i feeling bad to think that i cant see her now but my prays is that she may

start for elickazandry [Alexandria] to the convalesent camp if i could get to the city i could get my

discharge but i cant father i thank yo for seeing about my discriptave list for they owe me now six

I wish you would see that the printer puts all names of books into italics , as my copy indicated.

One thing I must beg, that you will restore to its place in the text so much of Emerson's letter as my

It is absolutely necessary to my point on Cook that the letter should stand right up there and face him

entirely to my taste.

It is probable that my state is reaction from the severe work of the winter at Washington.

My dear friend, I rec'd your first letter of about a month ago, (March 9)—I enquired of a friend in the

it miscarry,) but let that go— The changes in the Attorney Gen's office have made no difference in my

Browning—I couldn't wish to have better bosses—& as to the pleasantness & permanency of my situation

My dear friends, I often think about you all—Helen & Emily in particular, & wish I could look in upon

you, Sunday afternoons—I warmly thank you for your hospitable offers—Give my best respects to Mr.

close, as we have had real winter here, snow & bad weather, & bad walking—I have been quite alone, as my

off to Delaware on Wednesday on a Christmas visit, to return to-morrow, Saturday—I am about the same—My

strength still keeps quite encouraging—I think is better than any time yet—my walking no better, & still

a good deal of distress in the head—but, as I said in my letter of Monday last, (did you get it Tuesday

is so much complicated machinery about one of these heaters with all the late improvements—give me my

Camden Friday Evn'g Oct: 19 '88 It is dark & I have had my dinner & am sitting by the fire & gas light—anchor'd

& tied in my old big democratic chair & room, the same as all summer, now in the fall & soon the long

winter & (if I live) probably through all—I have been occupied most of the afternoon writing my autographs—there

are to be 600 for the Edition of my complete writings—it will be ab't 900 pages, & include all —a last

I wait with anxiety—I told you ab't my dear friend John Burroughs being here—he is now back at West Park

Walt Whitman Dear Friend I am now at my own home but hav not got my discharge yet.

I have to go back to rochester to get my discharge. the day that I left thare went to the patent ofice

them kicked me on the forehead and then they start to run and the wagon wheel struck me on the back of my

My friends their respects Please if get this rite and if you will Please to sennd me that potographs

all alone in the house , & have had a good time—fine bright warm day—been out twice for short walks, (my

little dog accompanying me)—rest of the time up here alone in my 3d story south room—done up & sent

off my two books to a subscriber in England —Eat my dinner alone, wished you could be with me then, &

them—About coming on I cannot say now, but I shall come , & before long —Love to Mr and Mrs Nash—Love to you my

I do not forget what I am owing to you, and try in every way to raise something towards discharging my

In order to tide over the dullness, I have accepted proofreading outside of my business, altho' although

My business is in the hands of a rural boy, & I attend to my correspondence from 4 A.M. till 6:30 A.M

But my mortification at having to ask you to wait, under all the circumstances, is very great.

My visits to you this winter have been such a pleasure to me & it is one of my greatest regrets in leaving

I can hardly realize that I shall see all my dear family so soon.

Please give my love to Mrs. Davis, & keep a great deal for yourself, my dear, dear friend.

But I have a good fire in my office, have just had a good dinner of roast turkey and potatoes boiled

Augustine Birrell), so I feel that I can defy the Pope the Devil and the Pretender—(an old expression of my

the same blessing"—seriously I trust all is going well with you—and with the big book —I hope to get my

There is nothing further from Gurd and I feel my patience wearing thin again—all quiet and going well

is a year today since our fire—hope it will be a good many untill until the next —I had a proof of my