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My dear Walt Whitman, I was very glad to have your postcard two or three days ago, & to find that you

My work—editing &c., made me come away at last sooner than I wished to.

through a quiet & picturesque cwm or valley,—so reaching this place, Carmarthen, where I stay with my

have been dipping more & more into old Welsh romance & poetry, of late; eking out with a dictionary my

Hda de El Rosario Jesus Maria Chihuahua Mex October 27 de/89 My dear Mr Whitman Your kind package of

a long time on road I was delighted I assure you to get them and they occupy the foremost place in my

of the old familiar faces—but I seem to be hoping against fate—as the manager here will not accept my

While I appreciate his valuation of my services I would prefer to go East—but have been treated too kindly

My cordial thanks to you.— D r Johnston has already told you of the open air meeting held by our friends

I am just beginning my holidays (long needed) & your book accompanies me in all my rambles.

blessed hours of sacred, vital communion with the wordless divine Spirit that informs all things and with my

April 5 th . 28 Terrassen Ufer Dresden My dear Master I have to tell you that the plan of the translations

I have begun working at my translation with a German friend who is fully competent to help & has holidays

I shan't let my own name appear, lest the fact of my being a foreigner might prejudice people against

My dear Whitman, I have been voyaging amid the Hebrides,—strolling amid the Highlands,—loafing by the

Sea,—trying to extract from two or three weeks' vacation some vigour vigor and virtue for my work, which

(If you see him tell him that his accompanying letter got lost in my absence or it shd should have been

await us—you must (letting me know beforehand the Ship by which you sail from America) come straight to my

January 15 th My dear dear Walt Your altogether good letter came to hand yesterdy yesterday morn: old

The chiming of church bells float musically up Haverstock Hill greeting my ears pleasantly as I sit here

nations no longer go to church & church bells cease chiming, but I needn't worry for it wont be in my

explained the good points wch which a violin should possess: as a musician he praises the conception of my

1865 Novem November 25 My dear Walt i have been looking for a letter all day but none came so it is saturday

Saturday night and i am alone for A wonder so i thought i would write you a few lines although my paper

in the nation it is a long piece with flourishes) the one in the union made me laughf laugh you got my

a woman to come every day and doo do up her work little jimmy comes as usual no more to night with my

I was rather amused (when I told some of my friends at home that I had seen you), at the ideas they seemed

to have of my object in calling on you.

It might have been my friend as well as myself who called but I had the opportunity.

I cannot very well leave my ship just now so I post it to you, he would have liked to have sent a more

couple of months afterwards I heard that she had never received any answer, & after some time I wrote to my

I cannot let this occasion pass without renewing my thanks, sending you again my greeting and love.

I have joined hands with you in it, tried to realize its ideals in my life; and to lead others to do

2316 Pine street St Louis Oct 11—noon Dear Sister I have been quite unwell, a bad spell with my head,

is passing over apparently, for the present — —Lou I think I would like to have you or George put up my

if the parcel is too big)—please do it soon as convenient—there is brown wrapping-paper & string in my

this—I have written to Hannah and Mary from here—I have just written to the Camden post office to send my

agents before I return—I shall probably return about the 12th of September— When I arrived here, I found my

I doubt whether the article will be accepted in the Galaxy —don't know who edits it—I send my love to

same to Charles Eldridge —I hope to be able to write to Nelly —I wish you when you write to say I send my

And now for a while, my dear friend, Farewell. Walt. Walt Whitman to William D.

is out of this world of sin & trouble—& I don't know as we have any cause to mourn for him— Mother, my

for somehow I feel as if I wanted to throw off everything like work or thought, for a while—& be with my

is pretty well over—they say the folks are coming home from the country, &c—I am glad I didn't take my

fine day—I am feeling well— Well, I have a long job of copying to do for Ashton, so I will wind up my

sassier this winter so far than for some years, am very comfortable here, plain & quiet though—eat my

any book particular you want, you tell me, & I will try to get it—Lots of sleighs out, good sleighing—my

had dinner, hot soup, cold roast beef, apple pie—all good—the sun is out real warm, & I shall go at my

should just like to have a ten mile ride behind his nag with the sleigh bells—Dear boy, I send you my

BEHOLD this swarthy face, this unrefined face—these gray eyes, This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my

neck, My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, with- out without charm; Yet comes one, a Manhattanese

such-like, visible here or any- where anywhere , stand provided for in a handful of space, which I extend my

arm and half enclose with my hand; That contains the start of each and all—the virtue, the germs of

good as such-like, visible here or anywhere, stand provided for in a handful of space, which I extend my

arm and half enclose with my hand, That contains the start of each and all—the virtue, the germs of

good as such-like, visible here or anywhere, stand provided for in a handful of space, which I extend my

arm and half enclose with my hand; That contains the start of each and all—the virtue, the germs of

I go over this afternoon at urgent request of my friend R. P.

I rec'd $600. for my N. Y. reading. Andrew Carnegie (thro' Gilder) paid $350 for his box. . . .

river—have had a good time—& it has done me good—have leisurely traveled over 3000 miles land & water—now on my

way home to Camden New Jersey, my permanent address—Am now pretty well for a half-paralytic, better

24 May 1889 My sir.

I pray then you to rec to my a copy.

My dear Walt The enclosed will interest you—From all accounts the reception of book here is very satisfactory

We are here for my wifes health, which I am glad to say is much improved. Ever yours T. W.

good last night—no doctor now three or four days—a note from Mrs: Fairchild Boston rec'g the big book—my

be printed Jan: 5—I will send you a copy at once—have been taking some ice cream & a cup of milk for my

tho't no more definitely of the Baltimore Hospital scheme —am sitting here as usual comfortable enough—my

sister Lou just been here, has been down to see my bro: Eddy —he is all right— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman

My dear Walt The enclosed will interest you.

We are here for my wifes health, which I am glad to say is much improved. Ever yours T. W.

Camden New Jersey U S America Dec: 24 '89 Still (after a sort) hold possession of the ship —but my grasp

growing fainter & my eyes dimmer—Wish to specially write to thank you for kindness —Y'r proof just rec'd

handsome " Buster og Masker " has safely reach'd reached me—best thanks—I will soon send you a copy of my

prose " Specimen Days —Dr Bucke's book is not printed yet—My volumes are now published in Philadelphia

light—bathe frequently—some one has sent me Volney's Ruins , a fine added-to ed'n —carries me back 60 y'rs—(my

father had a treasur'd copy)—go out almost daily in wheel chair —have just had my supper—God bless you

It is great and good— My object in writing now is merely to thank you for your thoughtfulness & to call

your attention to my change of address.

Andy, my dear comrade—I rec'd yours of 24th, with enclosure of letter. Two others previously.

Andy, my programme is, to vote here early Tuesday forenoon, & then start immediately for Washington—So

noon Feb: 24 '89 Sitting here by the oak fire dawdling over the Sunday's Tribune and the Phil: Press —my

last three days & nights—nothing very new—sunny & very cold here—some strangely favorable notices ab't my

Sept: 19 '88 "The same subject continued" was the heading of the old chapters' novelists, this is ab't my

I hope so—I hear from Dr B[ucke] —& friends here come in a good deal—meantime I am anchor'd here in my

of G. with Sands at Seventy & Backward Glance as epilogue & am busying myself at it (to commemorate my

finishing my 70th year)— Best love— W W Walt Whitman to William D.

Dear J—& thanks—I am better now & sit up most of the day—had some mutton-broth, toast & an oyster for my

breakfast—We are going to have fine weather for Christmas—I rec'd a letter from Miss Harbinson ack'g the book—My

My dear Linton: How do you get on with the picture?

I am back here at work at my desk, for the fall & coming winter.

I shook my head. "Not at all." He laughed gently. "Dry as hell, wasn't it?

My dear Horace:I have yours of the 14th this morning. All quiet.

head: that my head will stand by me to the last."

I had Bucke's letter in my pocket. "How do you come to that conclusion?" I asked.

"I got two anonymous letters in my mail today." "Where are they now?" He smiled.

My offer to light the gas was rejected, though he used my arm to assist him in doing the thing for himself

Then he reached forward and took my hand. "I see what you mean, Horace.

"When a man comes to my pass he'd best take the next step as quickly as possible."

But that work—that work: we must get it done before I write down 'finis' next my name."

Is this my sorry face?

It reads:328 Mickle StreetCamden New Jersey Sept. 13 Evn’gCox’s photos: came today & I have written my

is a head with hat on, the photo marked No 3—the pictures with the children come out first-rate—Give my

mouldering.When a friend asked about the poem, shortly after its publication, Whitman admitted: “That’s me—that’s my

It reads:328 Mickle StreetCamden New Jersey Sept. 13 Evn’gCox’s photos: came today & I have written my

is a head with hat on, the photo marked No 3—the pictures with the children come out first-rate—Give my

mouldering.When a friend asked about the poem, shortly after its publication, Whitman admitted: “That’s me—that’s my

It reads:328 Mickle StreetCamden New Jersey Sept. 13 Evn’gCox’s photos: came today & I have written my

is a head with hat on, the photo marked No 3—the pictures with the children come out first-rate—Give my

mouldering.When a friend asked about the poem, shortly after its publication, Whitman admitted: “That’s me—that’s my

Smooth my way—with all the aches and pains I've had for a week!

Asked me to have my sister Gussie prepare him some mutton—described how, &c., with amusing detail.

This is my Harned day. I wonder if the Harned Sundays will ever return?"

Was very particular to have me keep up my writing to O'Connor and Bucke.

He called my attention to it. I asked: "Are you sure this is not a love letter?

But on my insistence found it and brought out, Wallace inspecting for some time.

, give my love to both the others and tell them what I tell you now.

And my head gets such queer whirlings, like chestnuts in a pot—jumping, turning.

As W. fingered the book he was writing on on my entrance, he explained, laughing, "This is my old Virgil—you

It is the book I had in my carpet bag and burst a bottle of wine over in one of my trips to the army

Indeed put it in my own words."

I whipped a sheet of paper out of my pocket and wrote in the dark as he dictated.

My warmest thanks to him & you, which please convey to him if you can.

Then repeated to him the substance of my talk with Dave.

My dearest love to you & my most fervent prayers & good wishes are yours always.Wallace I, too, had letters

I know perfectly well my own egotism. . . .

I will put in my poems, that with you is heroism, upon land and sea. . . .

On my way a moment I pause, Here for you! And here for America!

of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers,

Earth of the limpid gray of clouds, brighter and clear- er clearer for my sake!

When I exhibited my prize he exclaimed: "Handsome!

My blood, your blood, went to the making of this book!

"My main thought?

My last, my final, my conclusive, message (conclusive for me) is in A Backward Glance: the steel of its

It's a chapter in my personal history that must not be lost sight of.

"I noticed it as I sat here—the dust flew up in a perfect cloud—I got my mouth full of it.

thoughts but the very opposite of my thoughts.

This was about the time of the Walt Whitman Club business that I put my foot down on.

"If it was to tip over, it would knock my neck badly out of joint.

"Over there on the box," he said, "is my red handkerchief: will you hand it to me?"

"I want to be ready for you: you are the oasis in my desert."

I asked him: "Do you really feel that way about my coming?

He says: "I keep myself down: I don't worry the strength out of my body: my one word is conservation.

He adds: "I have to subject all my rebellious moods to the necessities of my corporeal self."

He took my dare beautifully meek, I must say.

You remember I wrote it on one of my off days." "Now this is an on day and you correct it."

You mean that it would be significant as showing my condition the day I wrote it?

It is the fore-dream of my own questions: I put that question to myself every day.

My impression of it was favorable—not the common one at all.

My own curiosity to see him is great.

I started something with that end in view, but my condition at the time was rather dubious, so that I

"My writing has been clear from the start—almost from boyhood: not beautiful, but legible."

He called my attention to a letter from the West and called it "empty".

I can never know when the door will be banged shut in my face."

They are not my ideals but they are ideals—very lofty ideals." Saturday, July 21, 1888.

It seems Judge Garrison is to take them, and wants my signature. Oh yes!

There was 'Leaves of Grass': what a fight I had for that name"—and to my interposed idea that time had

settled in its favor,—"Well—for 15 or 20 years, everybody objected to it—even my friends."

And he added: "My critic gave all the intellectual reasons in the calendar, but of the emotional, the

I had Roden Noel's book with me, under my arm—and he asking me "How do you get along with it?"

He took his watch out—adjusted—"I am slow—my watch like me." Shook hands. Reading local papers.

Passed then to another topic: "I have my poems back from the Arena—the editor—Flower—says poems are a

drag on his hands—or indicates it—and wants my prose."

Took an orange he had laid out on the bed—gave into my hands: "Give this to your mother—tell her I send

I did not stay for my long talk.