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would have made me feel miserable were it not that before then the matter had already been set right, & my

My first letter to you was written too much from the impulse of the moment; &, finding soon after from

Not one syllable of any one of your poems, as presented in my selection, will be altered or omitted:

To be by your friendship is as great a satisfaction & distinction as my life has presented or ever can

acquiesce in the express views he takes of late years of particular questions wd be simply to abnegate my

magazines—the more necessary now as quite a set-back & very bad piece of luck has happened to me in my

one's mind that no words or writing can describe—I wish Jo and Debby to see this letter—& I send them my

back here again by nine o'clock, in time to finish the piece I have under way—Tell Mrs Rogers I send my

pleasure the nice visit & dinner in Linden Street—I have not forgotten Jane either — Susan you speak of my

It was conducted by a gentleman and his niece, free—I tell you it opened my eyes to many new things—makes

have seen John Burroughs & he wants me to go up there to Esopus, but I don't think I shall go —I find my

the time except at mid-day— I suppose Hattie and Jessie are there, all right —Dear girls, I send you my

home & see you—I will finish to-night— Sunday 3½ p m West Point 50 miles above on the Hudson I finish my

with the Park opposite like a dense woods—is pleasant, but cloudy & almost cold to-day—(if I had not my

but no bother & no whimpering or quarreling at all under any circumstances—they form a great part of my

world, a rural domestic life; Give me to warble spontaneous songs, reliev'd, recluse by myself, for my

excitement, and rack'd by the war-strife;) These to procure, incessantly asking, rising in cries from my

heart, While yet incessantly asking, still I adhere to my city; Day upon day, and year upon year, O

enrich'd of soul—you give me forever faces; (O I see what I sought to escape, confronting, reversing my

cries; I see my own soul trampling down what it ask'd for.) 2 Keep your splendid silent sun; Keep your

noise of the world a rural domestic life, Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse by myself, for my

excitement, and rack'd by the war-strife,) These to procure incessantly asking, rising in cries from my

heart, While yet incessantly asking still I adhere to my city, Day upon day and year upon year O city

enrich'd of soul, you give me forever faces; (O I see what I sought to escape, confronting, reversing my

cries, I see my own soul trampling down what it ask'd for.) 2 Keep your splendid silent sun, Keep your

noise of the world a rural domestic life, Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse by myself, for my

excitement, and rack'd by the war-strife,) These to procure incessantly asking, rising in cries from my

heart, While yet incessantly asking still I adhere to my city, Day upon day and year upon year O city

enrich'd of soul, you give me forever faces; (O I see what I sought to escape, confronting, reversing my

cries, I see my own soul trampling down what it ask'd for.) 2 Keep your splendid silent sun, Keep your

A.MS. draft and notes.loc.00281xxx.00263[my altar here the bleak sea-sand]about 1874poetryhandwritten1

[my altar here the bleak sea-sand]

do I not see my love fluttering out there among the breakers?

Loud I call to you, my love!

who I am, my love.

Hither, my love! Here I am! Here!

But my love no more, no more with me! We two together no more!

Harned, my sister Gussie, the boy, Clifford, along. W. in bright mood. Talked fluently.

Picked up a box of candies which he gave to my sister.

In the midst of some talk, W. turned to my sister: "And the baby?"

Then: "Yes: yes: Priestley is my man too—my man as you present him, but not my man in the aspect these

W. said: "Tom, all of you are too good to me: my friends: you give me so much without my asking I'd feel

Nothing that I can read seems to change my opinion of Carlyle.

The morning after my return some wretch poisoned my dog and the loss has quite upset me.

Alcott praised my Emerson piece, but Sanborn appeared not to know anything about my writings.

I did not feel like calling on him of my own motive. Alcott said he was well.

He evidently wanted to pitch into my Eagle, but was afraid of the claws.

It is one of the strongest of my good-humored pictures.

Some of my pictures are strong but too severe—don't you think so?

I was looking fixedly at the portrait in my hand. He noticed it. "What's the matter?"

"On the whole, I'd rather not: if I do I won't have enough for my own purpose."

So I put my stuff together and came to Camden. That was in the first period of my paralysis.

He answered: "I suppose I have destroyed the most of the letters that came back with my poems.

There is some Galaxy stuff still coming to you: I can't just now just put my hand on it."

But he still said: "Read a few: I want to have my memory refreshed."

My dear Mr. Whitman,I am glad you can do the nursing article. Thanks for the Father Taylor.

Musgrove will step in presently and put me to bed with or without my consent, and then——".

Good of you to attend to the complete vol. for my friend Muirhead—wh.

And he added, "Paine was one of my first loves and is one of my last, and he will yet achieve a high

Described my day's letter to Symonds. "I like it well—I like it all."

It was a good answer—would have been my own." A few more words, then farewell.

After I had left he called Warrie, "My grog, boy."

I have written Walt giving account of my reception here; you will see that letter and I need not repeat

I may say however that if nothing comes of my trip but what has already come of it here I shall consider

My reception here has been such that I am absolutely dumbfounded.

Called my attention to a postal he had written Johnston (I mailed it on my way up).Referred to O'Donovan

Longaker and Reeder to my house late in evening—photoed Morse bust by flash light.

After the dazzle of day is gone, Only the dark, dark night shows to my eyes the stars; After the clangor

of organ majestic, or chorus, or perfect band, Silent, athwart my soul, moves the symphony true.

Perry, & Co., against the United States—in which you request my opinion upon the legal questions involved

among the papers—nor, indeed, any statement from an official source of the precise questions on which my

Comptroller, or may be agreed upon, together with the questions of law arising thereon, touching which my

opinion is desired, I shall be happy to consider the questions, and give my opinion.

I have been making a few notes to-day," said W., "on the subject of my removal from the Interior Department

know, Secretary Harlan took the Leaves even more seriously than Munger: he abstracted the book from my

The more or less anonymous young writers and journalists of Washington were greatly incensed—made my

Louis: 'The removal of Whitman was the mistake of my life.'"

our house you must send your love to her also when you write i wish you would write to them this is my

sometimes you are writing at your desk well i am writing this down stairs all alone i have been on my

though maybee maybe i would come but i havent haven't had a word from her since she dident didn't get my

letter) write as often as you can dear and say if you got my letter of Louisa Van Velsor Whitman to

Since I last wrote you I have continued my hospital visitations daily or nightly without intermission

My dear friend, if you should be able to go, or if not able yourself give this to your sister or some

friend who will go—it may be that my dear boy & comrade is not so very bad, but I fear he is.

I send my thanks & love to yourself, your sister, husband, & the sisters Wigglesworth.

I have taken this liberty at the suggestion of my uncle Mr Symonds, to whom I showed the verses, and

by whom I was assured that my sending them would not be looked upon by you in the light of an impertinence

single line they are just as I wrote them two years ago some few weeks after your book first fell into my

Owing to my want of a public-school training, I have not as yet been able to do much in the way of athletics

My Dear Walt: Your postcard came to hand some little time ago.

I have been extremely busy seeing after the new edition of my father's book; the work of seeing such

My mother has written an admirable memoir of my father at the end of the second vol.

Dear Walt, I think I will address you in future by your "nighest name," for I think you will know that my

reading some old letters of yours to Pete Doyle, & their wonderful loving kindness & warm affection stir my

For I want to read them to "the College" on my return.

As I read them I thought often & often of my dear friend Fred Wild.

I received your welcome letter of October the 22 nd —I rejoice that you and my friends at Glendale continue

I enclose my portrait and one for Morse.

I like it because I look in it as if I meant to paint or do my best in that direction!

Give my regards to all enquiring friends especially Tom Harnard and also to M Davies.

My dear Walt You will be glad to hear that I am going to republish some of mothers essays; giving some

present thinking over her life is the only thing that I take pleasure in: indeed I am unable to get my

Giddy is fairly well and so is my brother Percy, his wife and chubby boy (Alexander G.)

I am getting back to my painting again and feel a little bit more together, but not much: never did son

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

Brooklyn 10 Oct 1866 My dear Walter i got you letter to day wensday Wednesday with the money all safe

like an age since i had seen you i am glad you are better situated than you was i am about the same of my

yesterday and to day today i feel better and not so weak and exausted exhausted like i did feel i have my

bed out in the room and sleep better and my appetite is better sis has been quite sick so marthe had

Schmidt April 4, '74 Copenhagen, April 4, 1874 My dear Walt Whitman, Coming home from our "Athenaeum"

Norwegian "Aftenbladet" (Evening Paper) for April 1 the the first real criticism of your book, I found on my

The author is a young man in my years; his name is Kristian Elster, he is living at present in Throndhjeim

Here follows a photography that gives a true idea of my stature;—the face is not good.

Whitman My Dear Sir I received your letter on the 8 , & was very glad to hear from you.

You asked about my Grand-Mother, she is alive, but, I cannot say well.

I attended an Academy last winter, but, my teacher went away, so I stopped going there We are having

I would send you my picture but I want you to come & see me myself. & very much Oblidge Oblige Your loving

I look round the circle of my acquaintance for her equal.

I shall always esteem it a privilege to have borne my small share in testifying the respect & gratitude

My wife & children are away at Ventnor (Isle of Wight), as the London winter threatened to be too much

for my wife's delicate chest.

B. " and has considerable to say of my "fame"—(I am not sure but we are to put E C S on our list of real

I am sitting in my big chair by the oak wood fire as I write—it is a darkish, damp, heavy-air'd day &

I am not feeling my easiest—Mr Ingram has just been in & bo't a copy of Nov: B. for a Quakeress friend

, & got some loose reading matter for a prisoner in jail I send to sometimes —my head is weighty & sore

Camden Saturday noon Sept. 22 '88 Still here in my big chair in the sick room yet—a coolish wave to-day

him as of old—he thinks himself it affects his literary power, (style, even matter)—Horace told him my

binder this evening—Shall not feel out of the woods & all safe, until I see the October Century , with my

roots" for the meter (slang from N Y vagabonds, for favorable prophecy)—It gets cooler & I have donn'd my

In his journal he wrote of their farewell: "He presses my hand long and tenderly; we kiss and part, probably

I also enclose a press copy of my reply, and of the note I subsequently addressed with the MS to the

Montgomery wrote me a very kind note, saying that the editor wouldn't print my article for "professional

I was quite ill and weighed down with lassitude when I wrote it,—spurred only by my indignation.

Upon its return from the , I had a vague wandering notion of sending it to the Critic , as my blue pencil

Lovering," Poet Whitman said, "wrote to me about five weeks ago, saying that my Boston friends wished

Lovering, of the Committee on Pensions, who was favorable to the project, and asking my consent.

It was whilst assisting at a surgical operation that I became poisoned throughout my system, after which

I became prostrated by hospital malaria, which finally caused my paralysis."

I have just changed my quarters—I moved to-day back again to the same house Mrs.

Benedict— I have not got my old-room but a room right over it—it is in the attic, it is true, but I think

is, as well as one is apt to like any quarters here in Washington—I will write you how I like it in my

stomach, just in the waist—last Saturday he had an operation & had it extracted—it was in, the length of my

stopping now and then in the silence, Alone I had thought—yet soon a troop gathers around me, Some walk by my

side, and some behind, and some em- brace embrace my arms or neck, They, the spirits of dear friends

lilac, with a branch of pine, Here, out of my pocket, some moss which I pull'd off a live-oak in Florida

from the water by the pond-side, that I reserve, I will give of it—but only to them that love, as I my

I know—I send you a piece by me from the paper here —the young man alluded to was much like one of my

shall come on to Washington yet—on a brief visit—Tell Charles Eldridge I shall write to him this week—My

brother & sister & Eddy here are well—My sister at Burlington, Vt. was as usual at last acc't account

Louis—As I write I am sitting here in my big chair alone ( alone muchly ,) in the parlor by the window—It

and then in the silence, Alone I had thought—yet soon a silent troop gathers around me, Some walk by my

side, and some behind, and some embrace my arms or neck, They, the spirits of friends, dead or alive—thicker

lilac, with a branch of pine, Here out of my pocket, some moss which I pull'd off a live-oak in Florida

from the water by the pond-side, that I reserve, I will give of it—but only to them that love, as I my

—Why should I trouble you with my pains? You have pains of your own." He paused for a minute.

"Neither did I for the most of my life: I hardly knew I had a stomach or a head for all the trouble I

I am told that Stoddard is pretty sour on me—hates even to have my name mentioned in his presence, never

"I am always sure that in some way my friends hear all that I say about them: all the love I say about

My dear friend and fellow toiler good bye.Yours faithfully,Joaquin Miller. Saturday, April 21, 1888.

He did not move at my entrance nor did I disturb him. Then to Philadelphia. (Mrs.

This is now my own personal, authenticated volume—sealed, signed, made as it stands, by me, to so remain

It is my ultimate, my final word and touch, to go forth now, for good or bad, into the world of the future

left with him.Speaking again of his condition, "I am weak—weak—weak, but everybody is so kind to me, my

Give my love to Walt.

Sunday, August 2, 1891Did not see W. today—but on my way to Philadelphia stopped at Post Office where

Either he stepped behind his wife or she ran between us, for, by the time I had my pistol in my hand,

Our right arms crossed and I felt the muzzle of his pistol against my coat when I fired."

I felt that my revolver had missed fire and that I was wounded.

With the idea that my gun was no good, I dropped it and grabbed Baker's wrist.

Near their rallying place I had been born (Manchester) if my parents had put off their voyage for a single

Will you return to them my cordial thanks and good wishes.

How proudly my father & mother will drop their tears on the message!...Ever,John H.

My memory plays me the devil's own trips." Will "try" to "have it made ready tomorrow."

I stamped it out with my foot. But for the chance of my presence, things may have gone evil.

(Now, if there were living near me, such people that I could take my Walt Whitman books with me, and

I dont don't want my your books worn out by borrow ers but I like to lend them as I feel like—sending

I see that I can get (or have) the means to come and pay my own way, first and last.

All stubbornly at my own expense. As I write this, I am not disposed to come there.

As I have exhausted my sheet, I forbear giving news of the situation with us, till such is called for

previously published in Leaves of Grass, "Passage to India" was Whitman's attempt to "celebrate in my

to start off on a long business & drumming tour west—goes in three weeks, will be away two months— My

May 11 / 89 Dear Walt: Yesterday on my way up to Olive to see my wife's father, who is near the end of

No words come to my pen adequate to express the sense of the loss we have we suffered in the death of

Drop me a line my dear friend if you are able to do so. With the old love John Burroughs A. D.

M Chicago, June 1 st 18 89 My Dear Old Friend The enclosed I clipped from the Inter Ocean today, and

Whitman Sent "My 71st Year" on June 9, 1889 to Richard Watson Gilder of the Century, where it appeared

As I sit writing here, sick and grown old, Not my least burden is that dulness of the years, querilities

, Ungracious glooms, aches, lethargy, constipation, whimpering ennui, May filter in my daily songs.

My taste is alien—on other currents: I do not seem to belong in the Swinburne drift.

I find it difficult to account for my dear woman's taste.

It's a good sight for my old sore eyes: leaded, double-leaded.

Dowden sent it to me himself: I have always kept it near my chair—I wanted it handy.

On another occasion he said of it: "Sylvester is on several sides my friend—my friend, I think, for general

Ellis is a friend of Chubb's and wrote me warmly about my own book."

I laughed, "That would be poor revenge, from my standpoint!"

He has given me new meanings about my health. "Bucke and I discussed it.

"I must take some report of my talks back to the boys. They will expect it.

Displayed all my treasures but these—the greatest treasure of all.

My new writing on Walt takes quite a different turn from the old.

I have my material all out, & I have now to sort out & reject & put it together.

My deepest love to the dear old man. I keep well, but need a change.

My evening's talk with W.

W. said to my description, "How glorious! I can feel it all.

I keep stout as ever, my face red and a great beard just the same.

I send my love to you, darling boy. Walt Whitman to a Soldier, early 1866

I shall keep it by me for my own reading, & to refresh my memory of those turbulent days.

skin: my skin is free: I perspire freely: I don't know but every day this winter my body has been at

own way—hold by my own views.

He shook his fist at me: "Why so hot, my little man?

"Tell them I am still chained to my rock but that I can still flap my wings: tell them I may not be just

Give my love to Doctor B.

thereof—and no less in myself than the whole of the Mannahatta in itself, Singing the song of These, my

ever united lands—my body no more inevitably united, part to part, and made one identity, any more than

my lands are inevitably united, and made one identity, Nativities, climates, the grass of the great