Search Results

Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 15 March [1883]

immanent hurry)— Yes, I like the letter very much— I am well as usual— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to William

Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 18 March [1883]

printing office allow I will have a revise sent you—but it is not certain— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to William

W W Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 6 September 1883

their Sunday edition—with the preceding note—Dana I think is more or less friendly — Walt Whitman to William

Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 13 September 1883

W W Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 17 September [1883]

A bright, sunny glorious day here as I write— W W Walt Whitman to William D.

visitors—Sometimes foreigners—two or three American girls now & then—great comfort to me — W W Walt Whitman to William

: of me period f'm '60 to '70 (the war time) & was the favorite of Wm & Mrs: O'Connor —the head on white

Bucke on the same page as the beginning of a July [21], 1890, letter that Whitman had received from William

Rechel-White, "Holmes, Oliver Wendell (1809–1894)," (Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia, eds. J.R.

Rechel-White, "Holmes, Oliver Wendell (1809–1894)," (Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia, eds. J.R.

Price Elizabeth Lorang Zachary King Walt Whitman to William C. Church and Francis P.

Price Elizabeth Lorang Kathryn Kruger Zachary King Eric Conrad Walt Whitman to William Michael Rossetti

to this file, as noted: Elizabeth Lorang Kathryn Kruger Zachary King Eric Conrad Walt Whitman to William

Walt Whitman to William Sloane Kennedy, 28 January 1889

Tom: If you will, fill the brown bottle with sherry for me, and the small white bottle with Cognac.

William White [Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1980], 72).

Affectionately [William Sloane Kennedy] William Sloane Kennedy to Walt Whitman, [5 March 1889]

Love to you— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 24 August [1886]

Review —and Lippincott's —a little bit about Shakspere in last Critic — Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to William

Best Love as always— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 19 November 1886

Kennedy Whitman wrote another letter on the back of Kennedy's letter, and forwarded the whole to William

William Sloane Kennedy to Walt Whitman, [2 January 1886]

new book —warm sunny day here—I am going out with my horse for two or three hours— Walt Whitman to William

Would send those only— Am ab't as usual— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to William Carey, 2 November 1887

promising cold—clear skies I think before night—as I sit here by the window— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to William

package of old letters all right—best thanks—also for the kind letter other—Havn't heard any thing from William

, sent me 50 pounds —then the Nineteenth Cent paid me 30£ for the little poem W W Walt Whitman to William

Walt Whitman to William D. O'Connor, 11 June 1885

from Dowden — W W Your Ruskin book has been rec'd & I have been reading it all day— Walt Whitman to William

Opera House—the actors & journalists have tendered me a sort of benefit—Thomas Donaldson and Talcott Williams

this morning —I am looking for your little book —Good weather here— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to William

White, even at my expense."

night, and withdraws at the peep of the day, with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white

Growing among black folks as among white; Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same,

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers; Darker than the colorless beards of

The young men float on their backs—their white bellies bulge to the sun—they do not ask who seizes fast

I depart as air—I shake my white locks at the run- away runaway sun; I effuse my flesh in eddies, and

beauty of person; The shape of his head, the richness and breadth of his manners, the pale yellow and white

swelling and deliciously aching; Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love, white-blow

Examine these limbs, red, black, or white—they are so cunning in tendon and nerve; They shall be stript

of their churches—I hear the responsive base and soprano; I hear the wail of utter despair of the white-hair'd

and from one to an- other another of its islands, The inland fresh-tasted seas of North America, The White

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and

sun- set sunset —the river between, Shadows, aureola and mist, light falling on roofs and gables of white

those of the grape; Welcome are lands of sugar and rice; Welcome the cotton-lands—welcome those of the white

fire-trumpets, the falling in line, the rise and fall of the arms forcing the water, The slender, spasmic blue-white

with hag- gard haggard face and pinion'd arms, The sheriff at hand with his deputies, the silent and white-lipp'd

bay to notice the arriving ships, Saw their approach, saw aboard those that were near me, Saw the white

serpentine pennants, The large and small steamers in motion, the pilots in their pilot-houses, The white

pass up or down, white-sail'd schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations!

Bring down those toss'd arms, and let your white hair be; Here gape your great grand-sons—their wives

Winds blow South, or winds blow North, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains

shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, The white

What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!

the unearthly cry, Its veins down the neck distend, its eyes roll till they show nothing but their whites

Off the word I have spoken I except not one—red, white, black, are all deific; In each house is the ovum—it

soiree, I heard what the singers were singing so long, Heard who sprang in crimson youth from the white

She sits in an arm-chair, under the shaded porch of the farm-house, The sun just shines on her old white

The cactus, guarded with thorns—the laurel-tree, with large white flowers; The range afar—the richness

The wretched features of ennuyés, the white fea- tures features of corpses, the livid faces of drunkards

sweet eating and drinking, Laps life-swelling yolks—laps ear of rose-corn, milky and just ripen'd; The white

and even to his head—he strikes out with courageous arms—he urges himself with his legs, I see his white

his arms with measureless love, and the son holds the father in his arms with measureless love, The white

hair of the mother shines on the white wrist of the daughter, The breath of the boy goes with the breath

We, loose winrows, little corpses, Froth, snowy white, and bubbles, (See!

accoutrements—they buckle the straps carefully; Outdoors arming—indoors arming—the flash of the musket-barrels; The white

in toward land; The great steady wind from west and west-by-south, Floating so buoyant, with milk-white

, I was refresh'd by the storm; I watch'd with joy the threatening maws of the waves; I mark'd the white

Fast as she can she hurries—something ominous— her steps trembling; She does not tarry to smooth her white

the single figure to me, Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio, with all its cities and farms, Sickly white

spread your white sails my little bark athwart the imperious waves, Chant on, sail on, bear o'er the

pass up or down, white-sail'd schooners, sloops, lighters! Flaunt away, flags of all nations!

What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud!

The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and

In calculating that decision, William O'Connor and Dr. Bucke are far more peremptory than I am.