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nevertheless.Bucke wrote me in letter I received today—written the 29th—about Scovel:London, Ont., 29 Aug 1890 My

Yes, by all means try to write a line from time to time—I will keep up my end!

For to me, after all, the final security is, if anywhere, in my atmosphere, in the ridiculous impossibility

of things reputed of me, in my work, in authorized pronouncements.

remarked, looking at me.Looked over a Christian Register I had with me in which was copied in full my

THE friend I am happy with, The arm of my friend hanging idly over my shoulder, The hill-side whitened

pressed and glued together with love, Earth of chaste love—life that is only life after love, The body of my

and trembling encirling fingers—the young man all colored, red, ashamed, angry; The souse upon me of my

eats in me day and night with hungry gnaw, till I saturate what shall pro- duce produce boys to fill my

O'C in my hand at arm's length for several minutes trying to realize its import.

My regret is keen that I did not meet our noble & brilliant friend.

I wish you know the depth of my own feeling the tumultuous emotional depths—sort of despair—stirred up

My days are passed in the harrowing uproar of a great printing estab. & it is hard for me to find a soul-hour

O'C dead—if one rightly regarded it—just as much in harmony with the scene as my part of the life-throbbing

I had mined that if writing for a while corres pondent except my son in T exas I would wait a good long

My interest, profit and pleasure have been much distracted by fruit-rotting so generally of years.

cause you one bit of sorrow or anxiety if bad luck should befall us in any way— still, myself, children my

(My & Wife's dreadful "tempers" may wreck us any time—so care not much for us.

I would not recommend my section for a Northern man to make a fortune except in raising clover or other

My eyes fill with tears when I think of it.

He is truly the chief comfort of my life.

I live very quietly in my little cottage, rent the lower floor and though I feel cramped a good deal

There is a matter that has come to my notice lately that I am very anxious to get at the truth about,

The letter he published written by you to my mother about the hospitals and sacred almost to me came

sixty-five poems that had originally appeared in November Boughs (1888); while the second, "Good-Bye my

Merchantville, in "the leafy month of June," I took occasion, one bright Sunday morning, to call and pay my

visiting Philadelphia, two or three times taken the same liberty and enjoyed the same pleasure; once with my

On my last visit to you, I was glad to see you so, apparently, much better in health than I had anticipated

you an epigram which on a certain occurrence in 1882—a proceeding disgraceful to one of These States—my

I remain, my dear S ir, very truly, your friend, (if you allow me to call you so,) L. Shoemaker.

Quite a steady snow to-day, half melting after it falls—I have written to Kennedy —nothing to-day (to my

the youngsters out with skates & sleds— Am thinking much of O'C —I enclose Symonds's letter —So far my

Your "November Boughs" has been my companion during the last week.

I shall try to obtain it through my London bookseller.

Each time I have attempted to do so, I have quailed before my own inadequacy to grapple with the theme

SHOTTERMILL, HASLEMERE, Surrey, October 6, '79 1879 My dearest friend, Your letter came to me here just

We have been spending the last six or seven weeks in this village I am so fond of where my children grew

up; we came to live here after my husband's death and remained seven or eight years till until the boys

I am trying to write a brief memoir of my Husband to prefix to the new edition of the Blake Macmillan

I cannot tell you, dear friend, how often and how affectionately my thoughts turn to America the great

shopping & at the groceries—Mr Carpenter has gone upstairs to write some letters—& I am sitting here in my

son, how I wish you could come in now, even if but for an hour & take off your coat, & sit down on my

thing about the same with us—was over to Camden yesterday afternoon—Mrs Gilchrist went over too, & my

brother took her out on a good drive about the country—My sister was up & in good spirits —Herbert &

C —I shall be down Friday in the 6 o'clock train—I want to see the creek again—& I want to see you, my

succeeding poem, we have him clearly in trance, and the impressing spirit speaking through him:— Take my

see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, Do not weep for me, This is not my

Here is one which again proclaims his purpose:— I stand in my place, with my own day, here.

And what are my miracles? 2.

side, and some behind, and some embrace my arms and neck.

As to "Why should my dog inhabit heaven if I?" W. said: "Why not?

I took it out of my pocket. "Read that passage to me again." I did so.

Adams, my last news of your health, and enclosing also a copy of my last circular (summer of 1876) regarding

My wife received lately a letter from Mrs.

I can but repeat my delight in this prospect, were it to be realized, and my wife's hope and my own that

philosopher's life in the quiet woodland ways, Where if I cannot be gay let a passionless peace be my

And my heart is a handful of dust, And the wheels go over my head, And my bones are shaken with pain,

What I experience or portray shall go from my composition without a shred of my composition.

You shall stand by my side, and look in the mirror with me."

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.

grave illness, I gather up the pieces of prose and poetry left over since publishing a while since my

For some reason—not explainable or definite to my own mind, yet secretly pleasing and satisfactory to

And thee, My Soul! Joys, ceaseless exercises, exaltations!

Thee for my recitative!

Roll through my chant with all thy lawless music!

That, O my brethren—that is the mission of Poets.

What is this you bring my America? Is it uniform with my country?

I swear I will have each quality of my race in my- self myself , (Talk as you like, he only suits These

rapt verse, my call—mock me not!

You, by my charm, I invoke!

For that we live, my brethren—that is the mission of Poets.

Have you studied out my land, its idioms and men?

What is this you bring my America? Is it uniform with my country?

rapt song, my charm—mock me not!

You, by my charm, I invoke!

Sir: I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of my commission as Attorney General of the United States

I herewith enclose my oath of allegiance, duly executed.

do I exclude you, Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you and the leaves to rustle for you, do my

My girl I appoint with you an appointment, and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to

I exclude you, Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you, do my

My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to

do I exclude you, Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you and the leaves to rustle for you, do my

My girl I appoint with you an appointment, and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to

I exclude you; Not till the waters refuse to glisten for you, and the leaves to rustle for you, do my

My girl, I appoint with you an appointment—and I charge you that you make preparation to be worthy to

Feel or fancy I feel, relief already as summer wanes—one of my doctors thinks much of my head trouble

. — I have come on here, for a few days on my jaunt to the Thousand Islands at the mouth of St Lawrence—shall

will do me good)—This is a splendid city, right on Lake Ontario—I shall be back in September—I enjoy my

Washington. 18 My Dear Sir, Your wishes admit of easy compliance, since Mr Browning has resolved to make

of pardon clerk and the opportunity will not be lost to add in the professional force of the office—my

Dear boy Pete, Nothing particular or new in my condition—I have been to the Doctor's to-day—had quite

Good bye my loving son. I will try to do better next week.

Camden Nov. 19 '87 My dear Sir I tho't I w'd send you word that Mr Eakins the portrait painter of Phila

suppose will continue off & on all the current month (or more)—so you might tell Miss Wheeler —Also give my

quite a while—I fear he is, medically, in a bad way—I am sailing along ab't as usual—have just had my

light dinner—Cool & raw weather here—my canary is singing blithely, as I write— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman

Camden May 8 '89 Y'rs of 6th rec'd—thanks—yes, I am agreeable to your sending S[tedman] my former letter

O'C[onnor] (f'm the wife ) to day, & I am gloomy—Dr B[ucke] writes me every day & cheerily—Horace & my

Camden New Jersey US America Evn'g Sept 8 '89— Here I sit toward sunset in my big old chair in the 2d

story room in Mickle street wafting affectionate wishes over to you— Nothing new or notable in my affairs

My friend Mr Stedman tells me that he thinks you would allow me to call on you.

Since I left England it has been my greatest wish to have the great pleasure of seeing you that I hope

London Ontario Canada Dear Sir I send you a little circular adv: advertisement of my books—I sell them

send them from here—by mail—I shall be here till middle of August —after that at Camden, New Jersey, my

Camden 10 A M Dec: 21 '88 Every thing continues not unfavorable at least—had a fair night & have eaten my

Saturday, P M—Bright and real cold here—as I sit, the great wolf skin is spread on the chair to protect my

Camden April 7 '89 Y'r letters arrived & welcome—My card yesterday f'm Mrs: O'C speaks of our dear friend

sitting up next forenoon—Nothing new with me—Horace, Tom, Mrs: H. and Mr Morehouse have just call'd—My

328 Mickle Street Camden Oct 11 '84 My dear friend Thank you for your kind & warm invitation to write

Walt Whitman I enclose my last screed in the Critic Walt Whitman to Talcott Williams, 11 October 1884

the window middling comfortable—you must be near shore—Suppose you (by this gets to you,) have given my

best affectionate regards to my friends there, the Costelloes, the Smiths, the dear Bolton folks & all—Tom

Botta: My dear Madam: I sent you by mail about three weeks ago, (in compliance with your request of April

13,) the MS. of one of my poems, "O Star of France"—also a photographic portrait.

431 Stevens street Camden New Jersey March 21 '82 My friends I believe you have in MS one or two clusters

of my Notes — yours —they are paid for—I think I would like to look over them & touch them up to date

Kirkwood N J New Jersey Monday afternoon Aug August 20 My dear friend, I forward you the accompanying

The other two will you please take, or mail to my sister in Camden, soon as you have read?

Walt Whitman, Dear Sir:— Since the completion of my late work on "Nests & Eggs of Birds of the U.S.,"

Anything else that you would like to appear, will be given a place, if you will call my attention thereto

"My words itch at your ears till you understand them," he had said.

My heart was palpitating, my nerves tingling, and every sense was alert as we entered the little house

I paused—my nervousness quite gone—feasting my eyes, warming my heart,—when lo!

I have dismissed whatever insulted my own soul or defiled my body.

"My rendezvous is appointed," I murmured, as I kissed him.

Finally he hitched a little closer and leaned forward to look in my face.

But he nodded, and grinned and hitched again, bringing his face close to my ear, then in a voice husky

he finally yelled right in my ear.

I must beg to observe upon this,— supposing of course, it is my Department to which you refer—nothing

It is my rule to give notice to the officer concerned of any charges affecting his reputation as a man

more safely drawn the conclusion, when you learn that charges have been filed, that they did not, in my

"Not the least of my blessings," said W. on my entrance to his bedroom, where he sat reading, "is this

northwest breeze, which has been blowing in my window all the day long," and he added, "Last night we

"This modern printing excites my unceasing admiration," he said.

I would not swear I had not acknowledged, for sometimes my poor memory plays me tricks in self-condemnation

Also, at my reminder, gave me a copy of the Gutekunst photograph for Hicks, autographing it also.

My stay brief. Expressed his liking for the Dutch piece "as it shows up in the paper."

Take it to your mother—give it to her—it is from me, my love goes with it," etc.

W.: "That is just my question, but you have Chadwick—he can't answer you—that is enough."

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!

In you whoe'er you are my book perusing, In I myself, in all the world, these currents flowing, All,

the West joyously sounding, Your tidings old, yet ever new and untranslatable, Infinitesimals out of my

life, and many a life, (For not my life and years alone I give—all, all I give,) These waifs from the

IN a far-away northern county in the placid pastoral region, Lives my farmer friend, the theme of my

appears to them, (books, politics, poems, depart—all else departs,) I confess I envy only his fascination—my

IN a far-away northern county in the placid pastoral region, Lives my farmer friend, the theme of my

appears to them, (books, politics, poems, depart—all else departs,) I confess I envy only his fascination—my

In you whoe'er you are my book perusing, In I myself, in all the world, these currents flowing, All,

the West joyously sounding, Your tidings old, yet ever new and untranslatable, Infinitesimals out of my

life, and many a life, (For not my life and years alone I give—all, all I give,) These waifs from the

Whitman I think it must have been my guardian angel that gave thee the "impalpable nudge" to write to

I am worse & not better, & now I have to go off for I don't know how long to the Pyrennees, leaving my

My road has seemed so shut up—I am laid aside in the midst of all the work I care for—fit for nothing—and