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26Come, said my Soul… Proof with signature.loc.00183xxx.00596Come, Said My Soul1881poetryhandwritten1

On verso reads "Copyright 1881, By Walt Whitman, All rights reserved" Come, Said My Soul

like to read—(T B Aldrich's also tho' short is very friendly & eulogistic—not sent here)— Nothing in my

, I have had a notion for, & now put out partly to occupy myself, & partly to commemorate finishing my

For the regard, the affection, which convoyed your noble argosy to this my haven,—believe me, my dear

Well: there is too much taking off of hats, but I certainly should doff my own to the Sun-God.

Pray give my kind regards to M. Traubel. Walt Whitman to William Sloane Kennedy, William D.

"My health?

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

"My opinion of other American poets?

"My religion? I should refuse to be called a materialist.

I recovered what I call my second wind from nature.

"My today's mail has been chiefly an autograph mail.

Not a day but the autograph hunter is on my trail—chases me, dogs me!

I settle myself in my chair, get the glasses on my nose, and lo! every note is for an autograph.

Amer—about April 10, I shall return here again and my address will be—— I am writing this at my desk—as

My mind advises me that I must suspend operations for to-nighttonight.

I shall never know, of course: I know no language but my own.

My whole—not exactly that: my best—knowledge of Hugo was derived from that man."

My father was Walter. He had a right to Walter.

My sister had sent W. some cakes.

All my feeling is against it. My feeling decides the day."

I do not want anything my fault to interfere with your progress.

It never quite approves itself to my eyes but I yield.

"I shall like to have it right here where I can put my hands on it—and my eyes."

Then we need title pages for your set and Bucke's and my own, and contents for all.

yes, Redpath was always partial to me—even went out of his way to curl my hair.

7 196 My touch hand will not hurt what it holds, and yet will devour it, That It must remain whole perfect

Only one minute, only two or three passing bulging sheathed touches, Yet they gather all of me and my

spirit into a knot, They hold us so long enough there, to show us what life we can be,— And that my

senses and our flesh, and even a part of flesh, is seems more than all life.— What has become of my senses

My hand will not hurt

Jersey, Feb 20–1874 Friday afternoon—2½ Dear boy Pete, Well Pete, dear son, I have just had my dinner

(stewed chicken & onions—good,) & here I sit again in the same old chair, in the parlor, writing my

time comes— Have not written any for publication the past fortnight—have not felt at all like writing—My

—I have a poem in the March Harper —as I believe I mentioned in my last.

Take care of yourself my darling boy— Your old Walt, as always.

Dear friend, Breaking up a few weeks since, and for good, my New York stagnation—wandering since through

camp and battle scenes—I fetch up here in harsh and superb plight—wretchedly poor, excellent well, (my

matters,)—realizing at last that it is necessary for me to fall for the time in the wise old way, to push my

wish you would write for me something like the enclosed form of letter, that I can present, opening my

It is pretty certain that, armed in that way, I shall conquer my object.

My dear Hiram Ramsdell: Mr.

—In respect to Judge Kelly, & his matter, I had already formed my opinion & made out my Report several

I hope it may happen one day that I may have him near at hand, that we get to be friends—such is in my

—There is nothing new in my affrairs—all goes on as usual in the office. I am well.

passed, & that I shall be better in a day or two—I feel so today already—& soon about as usual— No my

I wish dear Alys would take This side the earliest convenient opportunity to give my excuses & love to

very lonesome here—If I had not been born with a happy-tending natural disposition (I inherit it from my

heaviness to me—As it is, the ennuyeed hours have been the rare exceptions— Then about the shows of life & my

strong, with weightiest animality & appetites, or I should go off in a balloon—Well luckily for you my

My Dear Walt, As you see by my address I am staying with a great friend of yours.

I posted a copy of my book to you about a week ago: I hope that you will read it and tell me how you

As yet, I have not taken my passage, but I hope to come early in May, and to spend a nice slice of my

Wilson of Glasgow, encouraging me to go on & get subscribers for my "Walt Whitman,"— saying that I may

you be willing (I hardly dare to ask it) to send me for two yr book of addresses (sent by Express at my

(I keep up my bibliogr. record always (in the "Whitman")] I made a trip to the art museum recently to

Baxter has gone to Arizona, & left bust in my care.

Kennedy My idea is to charge $5. or a guinea for the vol. & print it in good style.

lost] yesterday and was glad to heer from yo and yo were en Joying good helth as for me i am not well my

very slow the warm wether chafed me all to peces and now with all the rest i have got a large boil on my

left knee my famly is well my little girl has ben quite sick but is well agen— the wether has ben very

and came horn and kep hid 3 weeks thare is 30 dollars reward on him i think they had or to hang him my

Dear friend Walt Not knowing what they were agoing to do with me until thursday last is my excuse for

Thursday I expected my dischar[g]e so that I could start Friday but on going to the office I found that

knew that they had gone up and when the truth was known he knew nothing about it thursday afternoon my

papers wer sent in to the ward for me to go before Bliss he examined me and told me I could have my

Sutler's and back (Walt it is useless for me to try to tell you how much i have missed you at night when my

Dear brother, You did not write any answer to my last two letters, now quite a while ago, still I will

I still remain here in Washington, finding just about work enough to pay my expenses.

he has returned from his furlough, he told me a few days ago he had written to you, & had sent you my

best respects—I told him he must never send my respects to you but always my love.

My dear friend, My book has been delayed among the printers,—but I shall stay till it is all printed—it

fellows & willing enough—but it seems impossible to prevent them making lots of ridiculous errors—it is my

My mother is pretty well for an old woman of 72—John, I hope this will find you, & the wife too in good

I send you both my love.

Liptay Care of Otto Behrens 140 Eighth avenue New York City I wrote to Nelly about a week ago, stating my

day—rather a curious fellow—a great bully, vehement, loud words & plenty of them (the very reverse of my

valued Dr Drinkard)—& yet I value what he says & does for me—He is inclined to think the seat of all my

been out, except just in front of the house in the sun, & only three times that—but don't be alarmed, my

dear friend—the probabilities are, (in my opinion any how,) that I shall get partially well yet— The

My dear Mr.

With regard to re-printing my book in full in England I can only say that of course it would be gratifying

copyright might be legalized here—If so, this might be worth considering in reference to the reprint of my

February or March, I am not certain which, I understand it has a criticism on my book, from a believer

My address is Solicitor's Office, Treasury, Washington, D. C.—U.S.A.

Dear boy Pete, Well, I am sitting here in the parlor again writing my weekly letter—as I write, the rain

feeling pretty bad, but it seems to be mostly from a severe cold in the head—anyhow I am having one of my

bad spells, of which I have gone through so many—had a bad night last night—but have eat my breakfast

week, & I have enjoyed sailing across the Delaware, & the splendid sunsets most every evening—it is my

you scratch down, as I sit here a great deal of the time, (& time is dull & lonesome, at the best)— My

My dear Sir, When a man has ventured to dedicate his work to another without authority or permission,

This must be my excuse for sending to you the crude poem in wh. which you may perchance detect some echo

Grass in a friend's rooms at Trinity College Cambridge six years ago till now, your poems have been my

What one man can do by communicating to those he loves the treasure he has found, I have done among my

I fear greatly I have marred the purity & beauty of your thought by my bad singing.

Dear Brother, I have just finished a letter to mother, and while my hand is in, I will write you a line

I enclose in my letter to Mother, a note from Hyde —nothing at all in it, except that Han is well, and

, it seems to me, like relieving me of a great weight—or removing a great obstacle that has been in my

go-ahead fellows, and don't seem to have the least doubt they are bound to make a good spec. out of my

I am very well, and hold my own about as usual.

York Saturday July 6 p m Dear son I supposed you rec'd a paper from me lately with an acc't of some of my

this forenoon to Sarony's, the great photographic establishment, where I was invited to come & sit for my

picture—had a real pleasant time—I will bring you on one of the pictures— My darling boy, I want to

Bethel had confessed to poisoning the Bishops—I will finish my letter & send it off to-morrow— Sunday

10th street,) is a fine, good bright child, not very rugged, but gets along very well—I take him in my

eye-works have resumed operations pretty nearly same as before—I see out of both now & a great blessing in my

getting along comfortably—the weather has been bad as can be & the traveling ditto, for three weeks past, my

last half-annual return of royalties for both my books just —$20.71cts —the death of Mrs.

she had the finest & perfectest nature I ever met—Glad to hear ab't about the Channing's —Give them my

love—I am scribbling in my little front room down stairs—the parrot has been squalling & the canary

My dear Sir:Dr.

Bucke left me, to my publisher Schabelitz, of Zurich, Switzerland, and offered the MS. to him.

Rolleston accept my assistance and wait so long. Shall I write to him, or will you do it?

Clifford saw my father's picture of W. for the first time at my sister's Sunday—thought it the best he

"My dear daddy used to advise me—my boy always keep on good terms with the cook."

work and having my jaunts together.

I will call on you on my way back to New York.

So my dear old friend I have protected your interests to the best of my judgment and if you want me to

I would also like you to answer my letters.

All right my dear J.

I have been busy with my pen, turning out pot-boilers, nothing else.

My opinion is that life is becoming pretty thin.

It will be my last volume—my finale—without a doubt.

So this will really be my good-bye!" Then into details.

My first point will be to get all the batch of copy—the poetry—into galleys at once: it probably would

March 26 1874 Thursday afternoon 2½ —I have just had my dinner—roast beef, lima beans, graham-bread &

Pete your short letter came to-day, written on the cars—dear son, come whenever you can—As I said on my

My little dog is stretched out on the rug at full length, snoozing.

He hardly lets me go a step without being close at my heels—follows me in my slow walks, & stops or turns

Pleasant & bright weather—have been out on the side walk in front, once or twice, with my shawl around

The second copy of book & my lending one, has come safe—too—and the card that told of your attack of

illness, & the welcome news of your recovery in the Paper; & I have been fretting with impatience at my

own dumbness—but tied to as many hours a day writing as I could possibly manage, at my little book now

(last night)—finished, all but proofs, so that I can take my pleasure in "Specimen Days" at last; but

My love to brother & sister & to Hattie [&] Jessie. Good-bye, dear Walt.

weaks weeks ago last summer I was in brooklyn & I hunted for you but could not find you I mad made up my

is night now & I was agoing to the villiage tomorrow So I thought I would write A few lines to you my

halth health is good & so is my family I have got three boys & one girl the way that I came to be in

me this spring I ame am owing some debts that I no whether I can pay them or not this spring one of my

stock youre your letters was directed rite right the two firts first years of my mairage marriage my

withdraw from the still woods I loved, I will not go now on the pastures to walk, I will not strip my

clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea, I will not touch my flesh to the earth, as to other flesh

I do not see any of it upon you today—or per- haps perhaps I am deceived, I will run a furrow with my

plough—I will press my spade through the sod, and turn it up underneath, I am sure I shall expose some

That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues!

farewell my beloved sons farewell i have lived beyond all comfort in this world dont mourn for me my

beloved sons and daughters farewel my dear beloved walter Louisa Van Velsor Whitman to Walt Whitman,

EARLY in the morning, Walking forth from the bower, refreshed with sleep, Behold me where I pass—hear my

voice—approach, Touch me—touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass, Be not afraid of my body.

Atlantic Av Your essay on Democracy stirred the depths within me I would say no flatering word to you my

I am unlearned and cannot see the same thoughts so as to form them in my mind yet their power is clear

on Earth and good will to man) was it ( Glory to God in the highest )—perhaps so if I had have put my

What a boon is Life. how glad I am every day that I am priveledged privileged to be one among my fellows

White Hall, Ky. 7-9-1887 My dear Mr.

I enclose my address at Yale University delivered before the Alumni & whole College .

As but 15 minutes were allowed, I have barely been able to state my views without discussion.

I have but the moment to return you my thanks—I wish you all happiness. Truly C. M.

1309 Fifth av: near 86th Street May 28 '79 My dear Sir Yours of May 23d has reach'd me here—I am unable

or what office, in Huntington I think, or who keeps them, I can not say—Yes I was born at West Hills—my

father Walter Whitman—I trace the Whitmans there four generations—my grandmother (father's mother) was

Hannah Brush I am here on a visit—go back, last of next week, to Camden New Jersey, my regular p o address

I have lent my copy to others.

Now you may call me a fool for my request, but if you will comply with it, I shall be just as well satisfied

I wish to frame it, to hang in my room, in company with a autograph of Charles Mackay, another of my

Kirkwood N J New Jersey May 17 Dear John Burroughs I am passing a good part of my time down here at the

Still keep well for me & jolly—am all tann'd tanned & sunburnt—Eat my rations every time— I was up yesterday

to Camden to get my mail—& found the book —read it all over with appreciative & I think critical eyes—my

front room down stairs, well wrapt up—for though bright & sunny it is a cold freezing day—have had my

usual—ups & downs—had rather a bad day yesterday—lay on the lounge most of the day—now better—the worst is my

time—Spirits & heart though mainly gay, which is the best half of the battle —Love & comfort to you, my

friends—your wives & all—Write often as you can—(monotony is now the word of my life)— Walt Whitman

Small the Theme of My Chant. From the 1867 edition L. of G. SMALL THE THEME OF MY CHANT.

Small the theme of my Chant, yet the greatest—namely, One's- Self One's-Self —a simple, separate person

My Days I sing, and the Lands—with interstice I knew of hap- less hapless War.

could not or would not understand their deeper meaning, nor recognize their subtler beautiesRepeating my

I send papers to friends and friends of my friends—often to people I have never met.

Detailed the incident: "It was my old Alabama admirer, who came up here several years ago—was talked

My old friend did not cease his admiration, so far as I know.

Referring to use of words, W. remarked: "In my abolition days, some of my friends were furious at my

My beloved Walt—I have read the sublime poem of the Universal once and again, and yet again—seeing it

It raised my mind to its own sublimity. It seems to me the sublimest of all your poems.

Now I would like to see you, in order to temper my heart, and expand my narrowness.How absurd it is to

The note is below:"Go on, my dear Americans, whip your horses to the utmost—Excitement; money!

He put four of them in a paper bag and gave them to me for my mother.

Thanks to you both.I had planned to have some leisure at my command to write you a fairly long letter

at Johnston's—sitting up with him till after 1, both loathe to separate.I read the College some of my

of & gratitude for all your kindness by my cold, undemonstrative passiveness—"the cold silent manner

you both love & blessing.All the time I was in Camden I felt it all too deeply—beyond my capacity to

wil gradually take its due place & proportion & perspective in my mind.

And in my own day and maturity, my eyes have seen and ears heard, Lincoln, Grant and Emerson, and my

I have put my name with pen and ink with my own hand in the present volume.

I felt it all as positively then in my young days as I do now in my old ones: to formulate a poem whose

, and has been the comfort of my life since it was originally commenced.

Then the simile of my friend, John Burroughs, is entirely true.

My folks were always worried about me—my mother especially: some of them regarded it as a crazy whim:

Jeff you need not be afraid about my overdoing the matter.

torments my best love.

Jeff give my respects to Mrs. Lane and Dr.

He laughed and took my hand. "Horace, what wouldn't my enemies say with or without provocation?

rais'd by a perfect mother, After roaming many lands, lover of populous pavements, Dweller in Mannahatta my

, Or rude in my home in Dakota'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!

rais'd by a perfect mother, After roaming many lands, lover of populous pavements, Dweller in Mannahatta my

, Or rude in my home in Dakota'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!

I am keen about all that myself—jealous of my right to fall down and break my neck if I choose."

He called my attention to the medallions, duly signed, tied up, with a label on the outside designating

them as my property.

I could not tell how to get it, but I can recognize my own when it appears."

My quarrel with the most of what purports to be history is that it is not history at all.

"It was all done, except for capping, in my time.

"Yes, it has all my fortunes! Watch, bankbook, pocketbook, everything."

I stood over him and dictated as he wrote—he making out check in my name.

figures, through which I have drawn my pencil.

As, in fact, I think is usually the case with my manuscript.

I remember I said to myself at the winter-close, before my leaves sprang at all, that I would become

a candid and unloosed summer-poet, I said I would raise my voice jocund and strong, with reference to

what was promised, When each part is peopled with free people, When there is no city on earth to lead my

I have pressed through in my own right, I have offered my style to every one—I have jour- neyed journeyed

Remember my words—I love you—I depart from materials, I am as one disembodied, triumphant, dead.