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431 Stevens Street Camden New Jersey May 8 '81 My dear Mr Osgood I write in answer to the note on the

other side from my dear friend O'Reilly —My plan is to have all my poems, down to date, comprised in

Ap. 16. 76 My dear Walt Whitman: I met a mutual friend last evening who informed me he had just procured

And so on reflection I have decided to write you that when you receive my order through Mr.

I will only say that my Soul and my sympathy all go out toward you and I often think of you as the one

hospitals of our Secession war—Still I do not smoke or chew myself—Sometimes wish I did smoke now in my

old age & invalidism—but it is too late to learn— But my brothers & all my near friends are smokers,

& I am accustomed to it—live among smokers, & always carry cigars in my pocket to give special friends

13 april 1870 My dear walt Walt i have received your letter to day the 13t i also got the papers on saturday

Saturday i am pretty well but my lameness that is bad enoughf enough my legs pains me real bad some

nights i cant can't sleep if i am on my feet much through the day i try to favor myself as much as i

431 Stevens Street Camden Sunday noon July 22 Dear Herbert Here I am at my room & haunts in Camden, so

(Yet I attribute my feeling pretty well now to my visits for the last year & a half to the creek & farm

, & being with my dear friends the Staffords.)

My dear friends, N. M. and J. B.

you word, in advance—The picture of the dear daughter will be welcome—I should also like another of my

dear loving boy Alfred, as soon as he gets any late ones, if he does so— So good bye & God bless you, my

dear friends, & my love to all.

had sleep of a couple of hours—A suspicion of better, very faint but palpable, this forenoon—ate all my

of past month—head ache all the forenoon—rather pleasant day, sun out most of the time—anxious abt my

Burroughs and Stedman (at Horace's request) also to Edw'd Bertz Potsdam & R P Smith London— 5 p m—have had my

any doctor in yet & probably will not—what I have is mainly an expansion & perhaps concentration of my

Christmas has come & nearly gone—I hope you & all have enjoyed it—Superb weather here now two days—My

fair feelings continue, & I have had quite a generous slice of turkey with some cranberries for my dinner

here—some visitors, a young Englishman, Rathbone, son of the man of the address on the "nude" I use in my

it to me—8½ Horace pays his welcome evening visit— Wednesday 26th—10¾ A M I continue fairly—have had my

pocket-book style, six or eight portraits, & autograph—$5—(shall probably bring it out to commemorate my

finishing my 70th year)—a little inscription on title — Afternoon —another big book sale—T B Aldrich

Had my breakfast ab't 9, hot oysters & chocolate & Graham bread—McK declines my proposition—I am sitting

sold 50 sets in sheets big book $3 each—(I suppose some Londoner, Eng—don't know for certain)—have had my

early supper—out soon in wheel chair —pleasant cool evn'g— Aug: 29, early A M —have had my breakfast—oatmeal

rejoinder" continues to be extracted & criticised & talked ab't—(it is nothing but what I say throughout in my

them, but do not if too ill or stupid wh' happens at times—Sit here the same in the old den—as now—my

Whitman, late in life, said to Horace Traubel: "[I] take my Ruskin with some qualifications."

The "Rejoinder" was later reprinted in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891) (see Prose Works 1892, Volume 2: Collect

I am getting better, and hope soon to be myself again—A bandaged hand prevents my writing, and everything

As soon as I get the free use of my hand, I will write to him, as you suggest.

Nothing will ever please me like knowing that my Bucke letter stands as it does with you.

"Well, then," rejoined the other, "I think your sister is the ugliest girl I ever saw in my life."

longer—He seemed to be well pleased with his visit, & I am sure it was a great comfort to me— I rather like my

Well, mother, I left my letter awhile, & have been out taking a walk, & now return & finish my letter—It

O'Connor has taken a real liking to him— I hope this will find you relieved of your rheumatism—I send my

Hart got on my car last night on my last trip.

others  You may not be interested with his affairs so i will come to close  excuse this short letter as my

car is going [to] start & i want [to] put this in the mail good bye My Dear friend Pete i will write

If you see him, tell him I have not forgot him, but send him my love, & will be back in Washington again

The worry of Ruskin —he has at various times sent to me for six sets of my ($10, two Vol. volume ) centennial

Leaves of Grass is that they are too personal , too emotional, launched from the fires of myself , my

William, (as you seem to be destin'd destined to defend the banner) I say here once for all you have my

permission to make any extracts, at any time, should you so like from any of my letters— W W Walt Whitman

Dear friend I am still here neither worse nor better—but keeping in my sick room & in the big old chair—have

had something to see to in printing my books & it has probably done me more good than harm—& it all

everything—George & Harry, as far as you know—& how are you yourself—I am sitting here alone up in my

room, writing this—Mrs: Davis has been an hour or two ago out to the City Hall to pay my taxes (over

Luckily the stroke did not affect, such as it is, my power of speech, or my brain: up to the time of

"My bete noir," he said, "is indigestion."

"Thanks to my dear father and mother, I have been wonderfully fortunate in my constitution—my body."

My honest thanks to you, Hugo for your letter posting me up not only about yourself but about my dear

That 'sThat's often my little way of celebrating the death of my friends.Dear Hugo, you speak of your

treated me kindly, and the young people made a great deal of me, but, perhaps, that was on account of my

printing-house, and superintended everything, even the type in which the book was printed, and they made my

"I spent considerable time in New York," he adds, "and a number of weeks on Long Island, my native place

S o many of my good friends are here that I must call it my home."

Egins is strongly pressed upon my attention as justly requiring the interposition of the Executive clemency

I should not take the liberty of again referring the subject to you, after your reply to my former reference

examination of the affidavits presented to me, on behalf of the prisoner made a considerable impression upon my

I am unwilling however to proceed upon my own impression in this regard, notwithstanding my respect for

Told him of my message to Reeder. "I am glad. I want him to do it.

anticipate me—and so I feel a singular, long-prepared reliance upon you—as if in fact you had become my

—though these formal, conventional weapons, even an inkstand, do not lend themselves to my habits, taste

That was always my impression: buoyant, light, loving."

As to the farewell reception to Clifford at Germantown this evening: "Give him my love, respect, admiration

Leaves of Grass, "Who Learns My Lesson Complete?" WHO learns my lesson complete?

as every one is immortal, I know it is wonderful . . . . but my eyesight is equally wonderful . . . .

and how I was conceived in my mother's womb is equally wonderful, And how I was not palpable once but

thirty-six years old in 1855 . . . . and that I am here anyhow—are all equally wonderful; And that my

London Earls Colne Aug. 28. 1875 My dearest Friend Your letter came to me just when I most needed the

comfort of it—when I was watching and tending my dear Mother as she gently, slowly, with but little

I do not need to tell you anything my dearest friend—you know all—I feel your strong comforting hand—I

I had all my children with me at the funeral— O the comfort your dear letter was & is to me.

My children join their love with mine. Anne Gilchrist to Walt Whitman, 28 August 1875

I thought I would just drop you a line for yourself—but no doubt you keep fully posted about me by my

letters to Pete, as I am willing you or any of my particular friends who wish to, should read them.

afternoon—altogether they make up a show that I can richly spend a month in enjoying—for a change from my

Thompson, conductor, you would say I sent him my love, & have not forgot him.

I wish you to tell John Towers, conductor, I sent him my love, & we will see each other again one of

Y. on a visit to my mother, but I am now back here again, and am well as usual, and working in the same

There is nothing very new in my affairs.

—it is quite pleasant—mostly young people, full of life & gayety—then I go to my work at 9, & leave at

I wish you to give my love to your father & mother. They do not seem at all like strangers to me.

And now Alfred I must bid you farewell for the present, my loving boy & comrade.

Whitman I was away from England when your volumes reached me, & since my return (during the last six

This must account for my delay in writing to thank you for them & to express the great pleasure which

I intend to put into my envelope a letter to you with some verses from one of your great admirers in

It is my nephew— the second son of my sister who married Sir Edward Strachey, a Somersetshire baronet

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

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

sinking nor getting worse—I have had some very bad times, & have some pretty bad ones yet, mostly with my

head—& my leg is about as useless as ever—still I am decidedly no worse, & I think now I am even getting

myself—something like what I was before mother's death—I cannot be reconciled to that yet—it is the great cloud of my

unfurnished rooms, or top floor, somewhere on or near the car route—Pete if you see Charley Toner, give him my

Good bye, my dear loving boy. Walt. Walt Whitman to Peter Doyle, [14–15 August 1873]

Whitman; Dear Sir My desire to address you springs from a question addressed me by a member of my class

to secure a volume of Leaves of Grass, which I understand are your earlier poems— I should feel that my

Should you pardoning my presumption, and my candor, be kind enough to explain the points to which I have

431 Stevens Street Camden Sunday afternoon Jan: 16 My dear friends You havn't haven't sent for the two

I was out once or twice sleighing—my brother took me—his mare Nelly is in fine condition—pretty lively—makes

things fly sometimes I have been in all day reading & writing—I have put up two sets of my books, to

farmer—well if he is satisfied, it is about as good as anything, I don't know but better— There comes my

call to dinner, & I shall go for it without delay & finish my helter-skelter letter afterwards.

My dear Rudolf Schmidt , As you have rec'd received my letter of April 25, you know that the copies of

Commencement Poem to a College near Boston city—the College is the headquarters of the Universalists—my

I intend to send Kristian Elster a copy of my poems, & my photograph—how shall I address him?

I have changed my back room to the front room, & have my meals sent up by the landlady—She gives me very

very pleasant & sufficiently cool—after the melting hot summer—I am writing this in the office, by my

Well, my dear comrade, how are you, & how does it go?

I send you my love, & God bless you, dearest comrade—Write soon, dear son, & give me all particulars.

write as often as I sh d like—but you will be far away wrong if you think there is any other reason for my

My only feeling in the matter is one of intense curiousity.

Give my love to Horace and say to him that I will write him soon.

—My trip is agreeing with me and I am as well and hearty as possible Best love to you R M Bucke P.S.

this moment to hand am well pleased that you seem to keep about the same—no worse I judge anyhow—Give my

I did not received my reporter's notes till this morn: They are quite well, & afford me ample basis on

which to build my account.

—Morris is sweet, sane, quiet—one of the best fellows so far swept into my arcana.

patients this time, & have picked up a vast lot of odds & ends of alienist information which I missed in my

I will tell you about this on my return. Longaker writes Doctor a letter—very favorable.

My Brothers James & Joseph are both well and in the Regt and wish me to return thanks for your kind remembrance

We finished our march to this place last Thursday afternoon and as soon as we halted my Regiment were

My heart is to full to write anything about him, for I cannot tell how well he was liked by the Soldiers

I am pained to say that many of my company secretly rejoiced when we received the news of the assasination

There are a large number of my comrades buried there and I should like to have the satisfaction of seeing

My dear friend, Your letter, & the two accompanying, came safe. I saw F. P.

Nothing new among my folks, or domestic matters.

purchasing property, or rather becoming responsible for the same — William, you needn't send any more of my

I shall return within three or four days—I shall write out & finish there, as my leave extends two weeks

appreciation of your literary genius, & a special request that you write for the John Burroughs, I send you my

be careful of yourselves—it is very healthy here this summer—I havn't been troubled by the heat yet—my

have half a dozen—so you see I am coming out—had quite a clearing out the other day, collected all my

duds & socks, & boots & slippers &c &c. into a great heap—and when Sally, our black girl, brought up my

em all off home—there was nothing but what was all give out, though— There is nothing new with me in my

much—I think he would find it pleasant to come here for a few days, even this season—Well, dear mother, my

intended for the lady (if I may be permitted to send it her)—and will you please accept the other with my

but I hope you will not dislike it, for I confess myself to a (perhaps capricious) fondness for it as my

My p. o. address remains the same, here. I am, & have been, quite well & hearty.

My new editions, considerably expanded, with what suggestions &c.

I send my love to Moncure Conway, if you see him. I wish he would write to me, soon & fully.

My impression is that hitherto she has cared very little about poetry.

June 17 John, I have just been reading your Galaxy article, seated by the open window front room in my

entire lines in the second column of the page about me (which finally please me best)—& had made up my

very decidedly as aforesaid—then when I did read them, you can imagine they didn't hurt me much—nor my

estimation of the piece— I have much to write—or tell you—about my own concerns—things in England—here

Lou are well—baby only pretty well—hot weather, & teething—(but behaves like a little hero)—expect my

I have excellent health, eat my rations every time, and am I suppose full as fat and brown and bearded

While here I spend much of my time with my dear Mother, in Brooklyn—she is hearty & cheerful, though

My address, for some four weeks to come, will be as at the heading of this letter.

Byron, I send you my love & friendship, dear soldier boy—and now that we have found each other again,

with him" &c &c— Aleck , the ferry man thought, was her husband)— I am selling quite a good many of my

Then upon going to look where I had my bound books boxed & stored away, up in the garret at Mr.

—the missing letter not there—I am convinced it came to Haddonfield— 2.40 afternoon I have just had my

dinner & am up here in my third story room finishing this—it is a bright sunny day here, after the three

days' storm—I have been alone all day, but busy & contented—my room is just right for all the year except

As I know you would like to hear from me, my dear friend, I will not yet go to bed—but sit down to write

to you, that I have been here in Boston, to-day is a fortnight, and that my book is well under way.

I was going to put into the book—just took me to the stereotype foundry, and given orders to follow my

It will be out in a month—a great relief to me to have the thing off my mind.

I send my love to Helen and Emmy. Walt. Walt Whitman to Abby H. Price, 29 March 1860

My Dear Old Friend, Another dear, good letter from you was received yesterday for which I send you my

Will you please give her my kindest regards & my sincere sympathy in her trouble which I trust may be

I am wondering often & often about my dear friend Wallace & his doings.

fullest satisfaction (if not already—which I thought the case—distinctly, amply, legally secured by my

correspondence between us ante )—But the copyright of Leaves of Grass must remain absolutely & solely in my

I want to say over again that while I reserve to the fullest degree all my own rights & the means to

maintain them, you are to be, & I hereby make & confirm you, the sole issuers and publishers of my completed

strenuously & loyally in the enterprise—& to add that I do not fix any term or limit of years, because it is my

I showed him a card I had from Josephine Lazarus, who had come into my nurse fund.

Later I found my watch wrong.

oh my yes!

—and on my assent: "Oh!

In my boyhood I had seen Davenport twice as Bill Sykes—then as Brutus.

My reading is wholly without plan: the first thing at hand, that is the thing I take up."

I hope you will continue writing me such notes as these, "My food nourishes me better."

My love to W.W.J. B.W. asked: "Is the postmark West Park?

W. says: "Maybe I've put my foot in it: maybe I'd better kept my mouth shut."

I had not repeated this to W., who today said to me: "Carpe diem is my motto."

What had been my feeling?

He probably got hold of my piece—knew I had been present at the concert: my habits, enjoyment: inserted

My book is my best letter, my response, my truest explanation of all.

In it I have put my body and spirit.

I wrote to Stedman for W. to-daytoday: sent the message out of my sheet of notes.

Forney asked me to accompany him, and I embraced the opportunity of briefly visiting my brother [Water

Kansas celebration, if I feel as well as now, I shall go out to Denver before I return here to pay my

"Oh, yes; I still write, and this winter shall read my own poems in public and also lecture.

"Oh (smiling), that was my 'Leaves of Grass.'

Yes, I like my present life better—rambling about a little.

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

body to meet my lover the sea; I will not touch my flesh to the earth, as to other flesh, to renew me

and meat; I do not see any of it upon you to-day—or perhaps I am deceiv'd; I will run a furrow with my

plough—I will press my spade through the sod, and turn it up under- neath underneath ; I am sure I shall

transparent green-wash of the sea, which is so amorous after me, That it is safe to allow it to lick my

Dear Pete, Well here I am home again with my mother, writing to you from Brooklyn once more.

New York to visit the lady I went down to the ferry with—so you see I am quite a lady's man again in my

old days—There is nothing special to write about—I am feeling in first-rate spirits, & eat my rations

to-day—a stiff breeze blowing & the smell of the salt sea blowing up, (sweeter than any perfume to my

Pete—& I wont be so long again writing to my darling boy.

MY DEAREST FRIEND: Herby went to David Bognes David Bogue about a week ago: he himself was out, but H

His father was the publisher of my husband's first literary venture & behaved honourably.

Also my own longing is always for a chronological arrangement, if change at all there is to be; for that

Without these faculties at ready command my dear Gabriel would not have been himself."

Whitman with my love, or if you prefer to keep both, I will send her others.

.— Dearest mother— I am still troubled with a severe cold in my head—I suppose it is that which causes

is much chance for it—It looks as though we are going to have snow—feels cold & raw—I am sitting at my

in with a photograph of me—his mother had bought it at a place here, & sent it to me for me to write my

bright, & comfortable enough—I did not have any bad spells in the head yesterday—nor, so far, to-day—My

a present of the most beautiful red rose you ever see—I have put it in a little glass of water, on my