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one day in Boston that Joaquin Miller, whose acquaintance I had gained through a poetical trifle of my

Whitman— I have tried all my life to write for the masses.

A few days later I called upon Whitman, my pockets stuffed with verses.

At its conclusion he smiled forgivingly and asked me to tell him about my grandfather on my mother's

Such a boy, to my mind, is positively nauseating.

W. reading Lippincott's, which he put down on my entrance.

My sister was here: George's wife, I mean—my sister-in-law: she did not stay long: she is a comforting

"I have been more on my bed than on my chair today." Little reading. "I only skimmed the papers."

Meanwhile I am up to my eyes—and over my eyes even to blindness—in the slough of a fearful road to that

to have of my object in calling on you.

"You are welcome, my brother," said the Unrelenting.

Behold all that is left to brighten my heart!"

"Many years since," said the chief, "when my cheek was soft, and my arms felt the numbness of but few

I felt the edge of my tomahawk—it was keen as my hate.

I raised my arm—I gathered my strength—I struck, and cleft the warrior's brain in quivering halves!"

Complained, however: "While that is true, my vim and strength do not return: I despair of recovering

"It don't go very well: my brain is not equal to it: could not cope with it—gets tired, takes my pen

out of my hand."

Finally: "Hicks is entitled to my best—not my worst.

My best would be too little—my worst would be an insult."

way—he was gentle but firm—he opposed my observation.

The Colonel is always my friend—always on the spot with his good-will if not in person."

Well—I have been lucky in my friends whatever may be said about my enemies.

My fixed residence is 50 Wellington Road, Dublin, Ireland.

My work there is that of Professor of English Literature in the University of Dublin.

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your

O I have been dilatory and dumb, I should have made my way straight to you long ago, I should have blabbed

paint myriads of heads, but paint no head with- out without its nimbus of gold-colored light, From my

my brother or my sister! Keep on!

Softly I lay my right hand upon you—you just feel it, I do not argue—I bend my head close, and half-

My occasional contributions more than pay for it. Glad he likes it.

I should get no pay anyway for my contributions."

and on my assent, "I see then, how it is.

good outdoor days there—Have had a pretty severe attack of what appears to be (mostly) rheumatism in my

right shoulder—more pain to me last night than I have before felt any time, I think, in my whole life—besides

Ed, Harry & Debby, &c. well—Mr S. pretty well— Saturday & Sunday lots of Company —Am writing this in my

going ab't same—bad grip bad bladder bother, &c: &c:—hear often f'm Dr Bucke he is well & busy—made my

broth toast & tea—am writing a little—will keep you posted & of any thing printed—(ups & downs—most of my

things are yet rejected)—rather a gloomy three weeks the last—the death of my dear Brother in St Louis—cloudy

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

My present woe is a festered pen finger, sore as death, and preventing me writing.

It is one of my afflictions, though without pain.—I will try to write soon.

Your book, a gift always to be handed down & treasured by my clan, reached me on my 55 th birthday, and

made me wonder that your November Boughs still hang so rich with color, while my October Leaves are

who have set up & electrotyped a new, complete & markedly fuller edition (with several new pieces) of my

at once, with the request that you will immediately have the book entered for copyright & secured in my

I am under many obligations in the past to my friend your Josiah Child, & should like to have this matter

Camden Aug: 18 '90 Frank Sanborn's letter f'm Belgium enc'd —the Transcript copies my "rejoinder" complete

Rainy dark forenoon here—I keep ab't well as usual (has been very hot here again) made my breakfast of

Harned's family have ret'd f'm Cape May—Am on the watch for Symonds's to send you soon as I find it am'g my

Whitman's "Rejoinder" was also reprinted in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891).

Dearest mother, I suppose you got two letters from me last week, Wednesday & Saturday—My cold still troubles

neuralgia—but I guess I shall get over it—I have good meals, I do not cook for myself, at present—but get my

forming on one of his eyes, & will have to undergo a surgical operation—Mother, I told you all about my

My dear Trowbridge, Your letter has reached me—my best thanks for your contribution to the wounded &

Times of two months since containing a sketch of my Visits to Hospitals —I thought one had been sent

letter Tuesday—I am about the same—I have not gone over to the office to-day, & am writing this in my

room—mother, I send only $15 in this—will send the other 5 in my next—Write and send me word, soon as

ups and downs—but steadily advance, quite certain, though very slowly—I seem to have a bad cold in my

./89 My dear Mr Whitman Among other precious things from Camden which greeted me this morning is the

And now our summer "loaf" is over, & glad I am of it, for loafing does not agree either with my health

Accept my dear Mr Whitman the assurances of our sincerest affection.

afterwards lose you. 2 (Now we have met, we have look'd, we are safe; Return in peace to the ocean, my

love; I too am part of that ocean, my love—we are not so much separated; Behold the great rondure—the

space—Know you, I salute the air, the ocean, and the land, Every day, at sundown, for your dear sake, my

received —Shall be very glad to go up with you Friday for a couple of days or so —Should like to fetch my

boy Harry Stafford with me, as he is my convoy like—We occupy the same room & bed— We had another reception

but can't stand these things long—Dull half rainy day here—have been in all day—sitting muchly for my

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

that ocean my love, we are not so much sepa- rated separated , Behold the great rondure, the cohesion

little space—know you I salute the air, the ocean and the land, Every day at sundown for your dear sake my

moments—when you come upon me—ah you are here now, Give me now libidinous joys only, Give me the drench of my

and drink with the drinkers, The echoes ring with our indecent calls, I pick out some low person for my

one condemn'd by others for deeds done, I will play a part no longer, why should I exile myself from my

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

that ocean my love, we are not so much sepa- rated separated , Behold the great rondure, the cohesion

little space—know you I salute the air, the ocean and the land, Every day at sundown for your dear sake my

moments—when you come upon me—ah you are here now, Give me now libidinous joys only, Give me the drench of my

and drink with the drinkers, The echoes ring with our indecent calls, I pick out some low person for my

one condemn'd by others for deeds done, I will play a part no longer, why should I exile myself from my

I refer to this simply to show my indisposition to advise the removal of an officer upon unproved charges

The transaction which has been lately brought to my notice in the Thomas case obliged me to suggest to

I was not moved in the slightest degree by any thing in the Stokes and Beatty case, but my action was

taken from my own views of propriety, without any suggestion whatever any suggestion whatever from the

Belmont Mass Dec 2 '85 My Dear Whitman— Maugre yr your wholesome advice, (exc. that I put in a page on

you & Hugo—parallelism of poetic-technique en-avant freshness &c) I have done gone & published my essay

I set up every stick of it mesilf indade , & corrected my proofs ( wh. which I'll have you know) were

Well, I have learned just enough to set up this & my poems (Heaven bless the mark—"poems" quotha,—I wd'nt

Whitman referred to Rossetti's edition as a "horrible dismemberment of my book" in his August 12, 1871

Pete, I am sitting in my room home, finishing this—have just had a bath, & dressed myself to go over

Foul Play" —if not, I have one here I will send you— Dear son, I believe that is all this time—I send my

love, dear son, & a good loving kiss—I think of you every day—Give my best regards to all enquiring

friends, & inform them I expect to be back in about three weeks— Good bye, my darling boy—from your comrade

since I first bought the "Leaves of Grass" and before that time I had most earnestly proclaimed to all my

Gilchrist has and to write my name also in my copy. I make this request because Mrs.

I learn from her that your health is better and she showed me a card from you which to my great delight

m Dear friends I send the within letter just rec'd from Harry—I am about as usual, & nothing new in my

time—better luck next time—It is heavy and bad outside, the wind blowing a gale—(I should like to put on my

W W London Feb 10—84 Dr Dear Old Friend: Am quite well with the exception of the abcess on my neck, it

Most of my friends appear to have forgotten me or think me of too little importance to drop a line.

My dear friend: I have just heard from Kennedy that your illness continues.

so glad that you have to help you so devoted a friend as young Traubel, and through you I give him my

hand and my thanks.

In these days the glorious words you have spoken about Death comes up in my mind, and I feel much as

INSANE, LONDON, ONTARIO London, Ont., 15 June 188 8 Since reaching home Wednesday evening I have had my

I wish I could drive you about them—the weather is charming here—I have in front of me, on my desk, here

in my office an enormous bouquet of snowballs, peonies, sweet flag &c Love to you RM Bucke I have gone

My opinion (not that it is worth any thing) is that this book of yours ought to have a sale and I think

Whitman on December 21, 1883, sent "A Backward Glance on My Own Road" to The North American Review and

& now I am paying the penalty of the exposure to the severe cold in another attack of neuralgia in my

I have just sent off my MS. to Briton.

If I can devise a better title I shall do so, but I think my readers will understand this one; the great

public does not care for my books anyhow.

buried a gifted and beautiful young wife, and such a letter from you did not tend to solace the pain of my

I gave my employé at the Secularist office the sum of £3 to procure a P.O.O. which I instructed him to

My employé, then, must have cheated me.

I would have done this at once on receiving your letter, but my wife's illness and death were so costly

New York Sunday 11/3/88 My dear Mr.

Whitman: You will remember my calling a few weeks back when I remember that I do so as a friend of Earl

I am as you know Wellesley Sayle an Englishman & am proud to be one of many thousands of my fellow countrymen

I shall most likely call at Phila on my way where I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again.

London Ont Ontario Canada, Nov November 28– 83 1883 My Dear Old Friend: I arrived here safely Saturday

I am up in my little room writing this while my patients are sadly pacing up and down the hall.

Have 42 men in my charge. Will have to close for the present so good-bye.

M Nothing special to-day—weather fine, sunny—no doctor visiting—note f'm Century (Gilder) accepting my

met at the binder's, & I am to have as designed by them a specimen of the good cover, &c. ready for my

whack at it several times)— Sunday Jan: 13 Another fine sunny day—just right—Continue well considering—my

wolf skin spread on the back of it & the woolen foot-cloth in front on the floor, with a lap-spread on my

Whitman's poem "My 71st Year" was published in Century Illustrated Magazine in November 1889.

three days—good temperature, neither hot nor cold to-day—I neither improve nor really go back—Keep my

room rigidly yet—have had today a bowel movement—& sit up most of the time—eat my meals sufficiently

will document (witnessed by ocular witnesses as this state statute requires) and the designation of my

cool and raw—bad feeling in belly and head regions, all day so far—had the preluded coca-wine, & then my

Camden Feb: 28 '90 4PM Dark wet & warm (almost) to-day—stay in to-day—yesterday out nearly two hours in my

coffin, as I took a notion to, & was acquainted with him—Keep up the massages—am sitting here alone in my

den—lots of fog here lately—My supper is coming— March 1 early p m —weather "same subject continued"

just drink'd a mug of milk punch—dull & heavy enough here—read the papers, & read again— 1½ Have had my

Dear friend, My feeling and attitude about a volume of selections from my Leaves by Mr.

since that seems to be the pivotal affair, & since he has the kindness to shape his action so much by my

The recherché or ethereal sense of the term, as used in my book, arises probably from the actual Calamus

. [—] I send you today a copy of my Annual report, after you have looked it over let Horace have it—I

I am well, getting a good rest since my return home, sleep about 10 hours a night right along.

read some of Brown's books if not all of them. [—] A gloomy but pleasant afternoon here as I sit at my

desk in my office and look out the window, roads very sloppy with the melting snow.

hasn't my prosperity walked on its uppers almost from the start?"

In any event, I hope to hear your address and to see you at my office.

I am anxious to have one or more contributions from you for my Cyclopedia for which we pay ten dollars

I'm afraid my pen let loose would have seemed out of character in such a place: my pen tied up I haven't

I tell you, Horace, it's no fun for words when they get in my hands, though the howlers may not know

"The minute I attempt to work my brain gets into a snarl."

My own greatest pleasure at Pfaff's was to look on—to see, talk little, absorb.

I had, in my years of loafing, forgotten how sweet toil was.

I had quite lost my interest in literature and was fast losing my interest in life itself, but these

two months of work have sharpened my appetite for all things.

My love to her. It is curious you do not hear from Mrs.

He was not asleep on my entrance—his eyes wide open, facing the light.

"Yes, that is my idea, but I leave the final decision to him.""

Yes, say it is my wish—wish, not order: I acknowledge his privilege.""

Found my letter from Arthur Stedman awaiting me.

My purse and my heart are yours!" W. exclaimed, "How grand! How quick!

On top of all my other troubles and labors my daughter Clare considered it "de rigueur" to give a ball

My work is done. Nothing remains now but to ring the curtain down."

My good-bye and his rather more than usually affectionate.

"My best love for all the boys at the club." Tuesday, November 17, 1891

Give my best regards to Whitman.

He laughed gently and responded, "Yes, caution, caution—it is my old virtue!"

Now he inquired, "Is there any news of the literatures—anything at all my kind?"

I consider Ingersoll and Symonds my proof.

"You are not the least of my comforts, Horace!" he exclaimed.

Mary is away today—Warrie is my cook.

I find I must exercise my utmost wits, to keep myself in a certain negative plane—which seems my only

Present my compliments to your wife & believe meTruly,D. G.

Now the book is completed, I want it made and kept my way." I had written Ingersoll today.

And I want you to let me know about it—for my curiosity has been aroused."

"I found this in my coat," he said. "I don't often put on this coat.

My names are Song, Love, Art. My poet, now unbar the door."

"Art's dead, Song cannot touch my hear, My once love's name I chant no more."

It puts me in mind of my visit to a church when I was a boy.

It was a Presbyterian church and the preacher was in a high box above my head.

Good-Bye my Fancy [Good-bye my Fancy Farewell]

Good-Bye my Fancy [Good-bye my fancy I]

I wasted many of my own opportunities."

He would not permit my defense of Oldach.

I put my hand over my heart. "From in here." He wanted to know: "Have you a safe guide in there?"

I explained: "I don't mean my future beyond this life but my future here." W.'s face lighted up.

W. poked his thumb up before my eyes.

Of course I cannot venture to give my opinion on the matter.

My eyes grow moist as I realize the sad, sad situation.

May heaven guide you to wisdom, my dear friend, my comrade indeed, my brother beloved.

'Good-Bye, My Fancy'—based, absorbed in, the natural.

And as he pressed my hand, he said slowly, "Good night." Mrs.