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BEHOLD this swarthy face, these gray eyes, This beard, the white wool unclipt upon my neck, My brown

of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world; For my

look where he lies white-faced and still in the coffin—I draw near, Bend down and touch lightly with my

of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world; For my

look where he lies white-faced and still in the coffin—I draw near, Bend down and touch lightly with my

BEHOLD this swarthy face, these gray eyes, This beard, the white wool unclipt upon my neck, My brown

I thank my daughter, Myrth Killingsworth, an ecocritic in her own right, for being my writing companion

On hikes in the Smoky Mountains, one of my regular companions was my friend and major professor F.

Professor Miller directed my dissertation, which ultimately led to my first book, Whitman's Poetry of

just as I was saying good-bye to DeWolfe Miller and my friends in Tennessee and heading west where my

bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.

duk.00277xxx.00084MS q 29Drops of my Bloodabout 1860poetry1 leafhandwritten; A manuscript that contains

a backing sheet, together with And there, 'The Scout', and In a poem make the.; duk.00890 Drops of my

Camden NJ—US America Sept: 13 '88 Still kept in my sick room & the summer season is ab't over.

My little 140 page November Boughs & the big 900 page Vol. Complete are nearly done.

328 Mickle Street Camden N J April 19 '87 Am here in my little old shanty again, & every thing ab't as

usual —Stood it very well in N Y —it was a good break f'm my monotonous days here, but if I had stayed

Thanks—I am getting along, but lack any thing like strength or alertness—No probability of my visiting

Boston—pleasant weather as I write seated here & my little canary bird singing away like mad.

Dear old man, I the elder old man have received your Article in the Critic, & send you in return my thanks

blowing softlier & warmlier on your good gray head than here, where it is rocking the elms & ilexes of my

lines of greeting in Munyon's Illustrated World, combining as they do the cradle and evening song of my

My brother writers have been very generous to me, and I heartily thank them for it.

thanks—Tho' I don't get worse again I don't improve in strength, vim, &c at all & hardly anticipate—My

Nov: Boughs will be finished—& I shall have a big Vol. of all my stuff one Vol. — Walt Whitman Walt

—& stating that I had been prostrated by the heat, somewhat badly, but was on the mend—I still hold my

own & consider myself recuperating—I hope you will meet my young American lady friend Mary Whitall Smith

My price is $60—same reservation as before & same obligation on my part — The following are responsible

easy night—Superb weather sunny & warm—Am going out presently in wheel chair —ate four raw oysters for my

breakfast—Expect to give the Lincoln Death piece to-morrow evn'g Phila: (Shall probably skip my daily

or 15th) just rec'd—I am certainly no worse in re the late physical ailments—easier more likely —ate my

dinner with relish—(cold beef, potatoes & onions)—Eakins has been today painting my portrait—it is altogether

Camden New Jersey Feb: 9 '82 My dear Madam — Yours of 9th rec'd received —I should be pleased to send

you the book—the price is $2—My Photo & auto[graph] are sold by the Camden Children's Home , Haddon

Camden New Jersey U S America Oct: October 13 '82 1882 Evn'g Evening I send you by same mail with this my

received your elegant little volume—Dr Bucke has also his —I am well as usual— Walt Whitman do I address my

Camden P M Aug: 4 '89 Nothing very new—have not left my Mickle St: quarters this summer (hardly can )

—am feeling fairly to-day—my friend Traubel has written (at their request) & sent on to "Liberty" (Boston

Dear Charley, All continues to go well with my health &c.

My leg is not much different, & I still have an occasional spell with the head—but I am much better .

Death and Night, inces- santly incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world: …For my

where he lies, white-faced and still, in the coffin —I draw near; I bend down, and touch lightly with my

Give my respects to Miss Wixon —I am sometimes very ill for days & cannot read, write, or talk or be

talked to—& on such occasions answer no letters. . . . am sitting here in my den in great old ratan chair

favorable—I am sitting up an hour or so—Pretty critical a week or so ago—but Dr Bucke I consider saved my

life—I want to finish my little brochure "November Boughs" —it is ab't 1/3d done—Love to you, dear friend

WHAT am I, after all, but a child, pleased with the sound of my own name?

tell why it affects me so much, when I hear it from women's voices, and from men's voices, or from my

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 containing the start of each and all, the virtue, the germs

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 containing the start of each and all, the virtue, the germs

He then said: "It is my head—I have not been at all well today, though not giving up entirely.

This is my first outing—this, now, in the evening; though," and he said this rather triumphantly, "I

And when I explained, with my arguments with Bonsall and Harned against it, W. exclaimed: "Good!

Why—some of my best—in fact, my very best friends have been women."

Then: "I should like my friend Col. Cockerill, of the World, invited—Col. J.

And having it open in my hand, I read some passages.

Give him my love—yes, again and again."

I also had letters from Johnston and Wallace in my hands. He exclaimed, "Good! Good!"

I hardly see how I can and moreover think it not my place so to do.

"I know you, bless you for it: you do without my injunctions."

And when you go you will take my love!" And again, "Good for Baker! Good for the Colonel!"

"Exactly, that was always my idea.

I had no view but this: that a few of us—my father, mother, some very dear friends—should be put there

As to Moore's proposition that I should raise the money and my refusal, W. exclaimed, "Good! Good!

This is entirely my affair—no other's.

Appeared to have been reading it; spoke of it immediately upon my entrance after our shaking hands.

more than once, and will have doubtless other expenses—but I want to make it all good.We all keep well—My

you are both gone.No letter from Walt today.Good luck to youRM BuckeW. said, after I had expressed my

My dear Traubel:Your very kind and very welcome letter from London, Ontario, came duly to hand.

Whenever in New York, do me the favor to call to see me, not only at the office here, but at my cosy

"I want to go next door," he explained, "take my arm, Horace"—then going toilsomely on, step by step.

"No, not at all, not stronger in the legs: my strength does not come back to me."

W. responded: "It is a great joy—a great joy simply to get out of my cell."

This morning we went out even before my breakfast—took a trip around the block."

This in my invariable feeling.

I remember when I was a young man one of my placards for remembrance—for every-day contemplation—was

To postpone my own pleasure to others' convenience, My own convenience to others' comfort, My own comfort

to others' want, And my own want to others' extreme need.

I must have it in memoranda there in my note books"—pointing to the table.

"I was sure I had laid it carefully for you here—but, as usual, my best care would not save it."

Be satisfied with my general assurance.

My heart is with all you rebels—all of you, today, always, wherever: your flag is my flag.

"I did not enjoy it: it was too sudden a change from my passive life in Camden: it was too much the New

Some of my best friends, coming into the suite of parlors, seeing the crowds about, with me in the midst

Bucke sent me my foot note, and I have made the change (Page 100).

—asked me to show to my father. The engraving had impressed him.

And he explained, "The picture must be 12 or 15 years old—yes, taken after my sickness, on one of my

was much fatter 30 years ago, for instance, as shown in the portrait Johnston has, which shows me at my

I think Bucke looks on it as the best of all—or among the best, surely, though some of my friends complain

I agree that the scientific is the best—the only in true sense—but whether I have been fortunate in my

My people knew not of my coming—none but my brother's wife, to whom I confided my purpose, lest they

The love of life was strong in my soul.

I felt my arm, and said to myself, perhaps in the village of the pale-faces, there may be something that

In the night, when all were sleeping, I came out from our lodge, and bent my steps toward your town.

"Shame were it to me and my wife," said Thorne, "did we let one who has saved a life very dear to us,

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

Within a short time, my Cincinnati accent in English and my relatively (for an American) voluble Russian

But what he opened up for my eyes and my heart was the genuine Russia that lay behind, and sometimes

voice approach Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass, Be not afraid of my body.

with your hand,/Don't be afraid of my body").

("Don't be afraid, it is not fearful/my body!").

Bucke had also written: "I have been thinking over the Riddle Song and have made up my mind that the

"Horace, I made the puzzle: it's not my business to solve it.

But I wanted something down there and thought I would start off on my own hook and get it.

There's something peculiar in my notion about this book.

Give the new mother my love: tell her I glorify her in my thanksgivings—that Walt Whitman glorifies her

My father had reinforced W. in his Goethean views. I had repeated these views from my notes.

Please don't mention my name in connection with what I write about Harlan.

Van Rensallaer.W. must have seen the big smile on my face. He looked extra pleased himself.

I turned the letter over and over in my hands.

He held my hand for an extra clasp. "Don't let our fight prejudice you against me," he said.

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