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Camden Sunday 3 P M June 17 '88 Am sitting up at present—fearfully weak & little or no grip on my brain—but

the doctor gives favorable clues, says pulse is vigorable—my good nurse has given me a good bath—& I

And so will some one, when I am dead and gone, write my life?

(As if any man really knew aught of my life; As if you, O cunning Soul, did not keep your secret well

This always arouses my fears.

As I groped my way for a chair, after shaking hands with him, I asked how he had spent the day.

But he added, after Ed had gone out: "I feel much better now—have felt much better ever since I had my

is made too prominent—when it is indeed insisted upon—when it is too much poked in one's face—I turn my

Perhaps it would be as well to wait and what S. had to say, if anything, in response to my letter.

In my classification which I advised in my letter of the 10th ultimo, it was my intention that all persons

hardly think Joe would have invited it—perhaps Jennie's own—but hardly: I thought, Kennedy"—but to my

Hoped to get out within a few days and to see my father's picture, now in Newmayer's window, framed.

"I have lately come across a son of Newmayer—a young son—met him several times—once on a jaunt in my

Bear forth to them, folded, my love —(Dear mariners!

for you I fold it here, in every leaf;) Speed on, my Book!

spread your white sails, my little bark, athwart the imperious waves!

What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?)

(I bequeath them to you, my children, I tell them to you, for reasons, O bridegroom and bride.)

To rise thither with my inebriate Soul! To be lost, if it must be so!

Bear forth to them folded my love, (dear mariners, for you I fold it here in every leaf;) Speed on my

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

What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?)

(I bequeath them to you my children, I tell them to you, for reasons, O bridegroom and bride.)

To rise thither with my inebriate soul! To be lost if it must be so!

I WAS asking for something specific and perfect for my city, Whereupon lo!

there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane, unruly, musical, self-sufficient, I see that the word of my

my city!

I WAS asking for something specific and perfect for my city, Whereupon lo!

there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane, unruly, musical, self-sufficient, I see that the word of my

my city!

What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?)

(I bequeath them to you my children, I tell them to you, for reasons, O bridegroom and bride.)

To rise thither with my inebriate soul! To be lost if it must be so!

Bear forth to them folded my love, (dear mariners, for you I fold it here in every leaf;) Speed on my

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

As my great aims in life are PRO BONO PUBLICO, you may find it in your heart to say a POTENT thing or

two in my behalf.

TAYLOR 1193 Broadway New York has doubtlessly received 12 of my books within the last few days to "PLACE

It took me several days to absorb it and make my extracts &c.

(I fear my digestion must be poor to-night judging from the tone of the foregoing!)

I keep toiling away kicking my MS into shape, adding touches &c &c W S Kennedy William Sloane Kennedy

My first visit to William's grave since last July when I went away.

if I had some one to give me a lift in my work, it would be a boon, but I guess my lesson in life is

Gardner of Paisley, accepting my MS. "Walt Whitman the Poet of Humanity."

suppose his idea is that people will buy L. of G. more if they are not given the passages in question in my

He bites hard—says "it wd be a vast pity if the book were to fall through," owing to my obstinacy I suppose

On the 5th page is my touch at Comstock. I hope it will do you good.

I will do my best to keep up the controversy. Tucker has fairly cowed Stevens & Co in Boston.

My private advices are very amusing. Pity Osgood was such a craven, though better for you.

I delivered my poem here before the College yesterday. All went off very well.

I will send you the little book with my poem, (& others) when I get back to Brooklyn.

Pete did my poem appear in the Washington papers—I suppose Thurs-day or Friday— Chronicle or Patriot

Well Pete, my dear loving boy, I have just come in from a 15 minutes walk outside, with my little dog—it

Philadelphia you think I would like to see, give 'em my address—I am glad to see most any one for a change

England Nov r 14 91, My Dear Old Friend Your kind p.c. of the inst just reached me two days ago.

Please accept of my most cordial thanks for your great kindness in sending it—Kindness wh every succeeding

And that I am truly grateful & that I thoroughly appreciate my great privilege I wish to assure you of

While doing garrison duty with my regiment the 2nd New York Arty on the works South of the Potomac I

I left the regiment in the trenches in front of Petersburgh, my term of Service having expired, after

I stowed it away in my knapsack but loosing that I lost your gift.

Nov. 12, 1866 My dear Sir: I send to you by the same mail which takes this note, a copy of my last poem

The age is over-squeamish, and, for my part, I prefer the honest nude to the suggestive half-draped.

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

I also would like you to answer my letters.

I had been feeling depressed and sorrowful—perhaps my own bad state had something to do with it; but

anyhow, the brave hand-writing was like Chevy Chace to Sidney, "stirring my heart as with the sound of

He is certainly the winter of my discontent mentioned by Lord Bacon in his play of Richard III.

years Whitman increasingly considered him an antagonist; late in his life, Whitman commented: "Some of my

out & looks & feels like snow—have had a couple of visitors to–day, one f'm the college near Boston—My

brother George return'd f'm St Louis & was here a couple of hours—my neice Jessie remains at present

children poor enough)—Love to you all—Ed stop here often as you can—you too Susan—George keep a good heart—my

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

am pretty much as usual again after quite a long siege—I am here in a little old house I have bought—my

a couple of elderly folks, acquaintances of mine, Mr and Mrs Lay, they live in the house, & I take my

all ever so much better than the Stevens Street business—Am not doing any thing lately, & the sale of my

Have had a markedly bad week days & nights but am weathering-it-on (as my phrase is)—smally but palpably

f'm them—expect printed slips of NA Rev: & Lip: pieces & sh'l send you copies if I get them—Enclosed my

I am sitting here same (a little shawl extra around my back neck & right shoulder ag't draft) comfortable

On December 17, Whitman sent four poems: "Old Chants," "Grand is the Seen," "Death dogs my steps," and

Rome 17 Dec. 1891 The "linked sweetness" of my negociation negotiation , here in the eternal city has

This morning, dear Walt Whitman, Have a letter from my boy Maurice, expressing great delight at the big

He tells how, to my great regret, that that poor young man Balestier whom I was to have seen for you

These highly prized volumes of yours, and mine, became the latter by subscription, through my dear dead

"Democratic Vistas" since the books came, and am impelled to say to you that I rejoice greatly that my

Entering upon the New Year, let me then, my dear Walt Whitman, send you warm greeting from the Tropic

I am paying a visit—it is a vacation—to Benjamin Jowett, the Head of my college, a venerable and dreadful

It makes one realize how much your generation—my father's generation—has done for progress, I only hope

My father is extremely well, and enjoying life. Mrs.

My opine is that our dear O'Connor is better—jaunting at present for the time an easier road on plateau

than the C itself) —Ed Stafford has just call'd with some apples & a chicken— Saturday Sunset Have had my

dinner, stew'd chicken & rice pudding—have not left my room yet, but shall get down a few minutes to-morrow

Superintendent's Office Asylum for the Insane Ontario London, Ont., 16 March 18 90 Here I am over at my

office in the main asylum sitting at my desk with a fine wood and coal fire at my left hand—every thing

most satisfactory affair at the church—no doubt it will all have to grow & adjust & form itself—but my

D is well—is in the back room working—my canary is singing away as I write. three little boys have just

been in to see me —my respects & love to y'r mother & all—tell Henry I rec'd his card —no definite day

I send you today a piece I wrote for an uncle more than thirty years ago about my old wanderings in the

I promised Horace to send him a copy of my Saguenay poem but please tell him I cannot find one and fear

My Annual Report is out—I have written for some copies and shall send you one as soon as I get them I

Let [Joel] Benton have my letters, take as much as possible my point of view, and he might write to me

Of course the letters I write you are for perusal by all my friends—Gilder, Swinton, Benton, &c.

Mr Whitman Dear Sir I once more take my pen in hand to write a few lines to you And if I dont get an

Yours Truly I have my Photograph when I receive yours I will send you Give my respects to Mrs.

March 27, 1867 My dear friend, Although your letter I see has the N.

My impression is, there is little or no chance of getting Congress to pass, at this time, a special resolution

thing does — Still, I will try what I can do—I will see a few of the members, forthwith—I have one in my

Robert K.Martin"What Think You I Take My Pen in Hand?"

(1860)"What Think You I Take My Pen in Hand?"

"What Think You I Take My Pen in Hand?" (1860)

My dear Mr.

spirits—not well enough to go out in the world & go to work—but not sick enough to give up either, or lose my

till I read it, how much eligibility to passion, character and art arousings was still left to me in my

& fixing the ground , more & more & more—& now that the seed is dropt dropped in it sprouts quickly—my

own feeling ab't about my book is that it makes (tries to make) every fellow see himself , & see that

real, & are mostly within reach of all—you chew on this— Hank, I am still feeling under the weather—My

About the plate my impression still is that in the hands of a good expert steel plate printer it will

My notion is against getting up any further portrait (this steel plate will have to permanently continue

carefully done , & with good ink)—& the binding, color, style, (strong, plain, unexpensive inexpensive , is my

For my own part, it (the Republican article) made me marvel.

I cannot make my belief square with such a notion. Au revoir .

I am up to my ears in office work, wretchedly unwell, and wish I could be away.

I laughed and he, laughing too, remarked: "You must not laugh at my shoes—I am tremenjuously proud of

"Yes—and it will be as hard to get suited in this as for me in my shirts.

When I go to order my shirts, the man will say to me, with a mixture of compassionateness, superiority

What right have you to protest against my having what I want and will pay for?'

It has always been one of my finer joys, to watch the varied, varying, ever-changing, inter-locking,

W. in his room, reading Scott—laying the volume face down, on my entrance.

I think Edward Emerson is constitutionally my enemy.

And to my yes, "What?"

And to my explanation what, "Let me predict, then, that it will be of no avail.

But then," he added—"for my sake too—for all our sakes!" Friday, November 8, 1889

I have eaten freely and seem to digest my food: have felt altogether better, except, perhaps, at the

top, which will finally feel the effects of my bodily rehabilitation I am sure.

So you see, my flag is no more at half mast: I feel the touch of life again!"

I do not make light of such messages—indeed, they have a profound place in my consideration.

"My Herald is stopped and I do not regret it: my subscription is run out.

Darkness thickens—my heart trembles on its throne—the end not unprobably near.To my mother's house a

few minutes (this my birthday—a solemn birthday—my mother giving me with tender hand an old cherished

with a louder voice than love in this modern world—and with so many sick and sad I cannot think of my

These are my warm Christmas wishes for Walt and you and me and all people.Very cordially yrsElisabeth

Tenn. was the bright particular star of my youth and early manhood—is a man who makes this dull earth

"No—only by my good sense." I reminded him that in several cases he had made minor changes.

Gave me a cake for my mother. Had done it up in envelope and laid out on the bed for me.

I shall have something to say about that in 'Good-Bye My Fancy.'" I asked, "Is the book ready?"

"That was my own opinion: I have seen it."

My old opinion of it lasts—lasts." Johnston a "good man" to W.

"My writing days are done—all done!" Had he read Morse's paper? "Yes! and enjoyed it, too.

He laughed, too, "No, made one in my old age, by long trials!"

And to my "yes" reached back to the table next him and brought forth a bottle.

Give him my love and this bottle!"

Of my real innerness he knows less than I do!"

I hear that some of my former portraits have not been high colored and flattering enough to suit the

My subject is a tall sedate man, whose grey hair and invariable spectacles make him seem older at first

The impression which his speeches always leave on my mind is—"This was not a first class speech, but

I almost fear that my present subject is one of the former description—yet as my series of sketches would

And there is no more hard-working man in the city than my subject, who labors unceasingly for the good