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Bucke and his brother-in-law William John Gurd were designing a gas and fluid meter to be patented in

—I send 100 autograph sheets—(50 were sent before.) I send 100 labels—(50 were sent before.)

David McKay (1860–1918) took over Philadelphia-based publisher Rees Welsh's bookselling and publishing

For more information about McKay, see Joel Myerson, "McKay, David (1860–1918)," Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia

mentioned the possibility of a pension to Whitman as early as January 7, 1885: "If this humbug government were

During the late 1850s and throughout the 1860s, Abby and Helen were friends with Whitman and his mother

Helen's reminiscences of Whitman were included in Richard Maurice Bucke's 1883 biography of Whitman.

Jersey Aug. 24 p m Charles Eldridge was here yesterday noon—a pleasant 3 hour visit—went to Atlantic City

was one half of the Boston-based abolitionist publishing firm Thayer and Eldridge, who issued the 1860

With additions he republished it as "Robert Burns as Poet and Person" in The North American Review, 143

Conway) alleging that Americans were not as generous as they should be in their gifts to Walt Whitman

Conway) alleging that Americans were not as generous as they should be in their gifts to Walt Whitman

Bohan, Looking into Walt Whitman: American Art, 1850–1920 (University Park: Pennsylvania State University

The arrangements for the lecture were made by John H.

David McKay (1860–1918) was a Philadelphia-based publisher, whose company, founded in 1882, printed a

This letter is addressed: Wm Carey | Century Office | Union Square | New York City.

was one half of the Boston-based abolitionist publishing firm Thayer and Eldridge, who issued the 1860

She is an American, & my best friend— Walt Whitman to Ernest Rhys, 2 February 1887

for a week—As I close, my bird is singing like a house afire, & the sun is shining out—I wish you were

Sloane Kennedy had to say about Whitman in his pamphlet, but thought that the statements about style were

Bessie (d. 1919) and Isabella (1855–1924) Ford were sisters who lived together in Leeds.

They were friends and disciples (as well as cousins) of Carpenter, and active social reformers, working

herself; Of Equality—As if it harm'd me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—As if it were

OF what I write from myself—As if that were not the resumé; Of Histories—As if such, however complete

, were not less complete than my poems; As if the shreds, the records of nations, could possibly be as

lasting as my poems; As if here were not the amount of all nations, and of all the lives of heroes.

all—None refuse, all attend; Armies, ships, antiquities, the dead, libraries, paintings, machines, cities

The stars themselves, some shaped, others unshaped, Wonders as of those countries—the soil, trees, cities

I see the results glorious and inevitable—and they again leading to other results;) How the great cities

women there—of happiness in those high plateaus, ranging three thousand miles, warm and cold; Of cities

where I was born, Well-begotten, and rais'd by a perfect mother; After roaming many lands—lover of populous

pave- ments pavements ; Dweller in Mannahatta, city of ships, my city—or on southern savannas; Or a

put in my poems, that with you is heroism, upon land and sea—And I will report all heroism from an American

ideal of manly love, indicating it in me; I will therefore let flame from me the burning fires that were

the Kanzas, count- less countless herds of buffalo, feeding on short curly grass; See, in my poems, cities

shall listen to all sides, and filter them from your- self your-self . 3 I have heard what the talkers were

Trippers and askers surround me; People I meet—the effect upon me of my early life, or the ward and city

All I mark as my own, you shall offset it with your own; Else it were time lost listening to me.

; The blocks and fallen architecture more than all the living cities of the globe.)

Were mankind murderous or jealous upon you, my brother, my sister?

FROM pent-up, aching rivers; From that of myself, without which I were nothing; From what I am determin'd

, entirely redeem'd her, the faithful one, even the prostitute, who detain'd me when I went to the city

And if the body were not the Soul, what is the Soul?

and pause, listen, and count. 3 I knew a man, a common farmer—the father of five sons; And in them were

the fathers of sons—and in them were the fathers of sons.

and visit him to see—he was wise also; He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old—his sons were

I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor—all falls aside but myself and it

A WOMAN waits for me—she contains all, nothing is lacking, Yet all were lacking, if sex were lacking,

or if the moisture of the right man were lacking.

We Two—how Long We Were Fool'd WE TWO—HOW LONG WE WERE FOOL'D. WE two—how long we were fool'd!

Once I Pass'd Through a Populous City ONCE I PASS'D THROUGH A POPULOUS CITY.

ONCE I pass'd through a populous city, imprinting my brain, for future use, with its shows, architec-

ture architecture , customs, and traditions; Yet now, of all that city, I remember only a woman I casually

met there, who detain'd me for love of me; Day by day and night by night we were together,—All else

original loins, perfectly sweet, I, chanter of Adamic songs, Through the new garden, the West, the great cities

For I think I have reason to be the proudest son alive—for I am the son of the brawny and tall-topt city

America, and along the shores of the great lakes, and all over the prairies; I will make inseparable cities

the sick, sick dread lest the one he lov'd might secretly be indifferent to him, Whose happiest days were

was not a happy night for me that fol- low follow'd ; And else, when I carous'd, or when my plans were

herself; Of Equality—As if it harm'd me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—As if it were

OF what I write from myself—As if that were not the resumé; Of Histories—As if such, however complete

, were not less complete than my poems; As if the shreds, the records of nations, could possibly be as

lasting as my poems; As if here were not the amount of all nations, and of all the lives of heroes.

ages, that men and women like us grew up and travel'd their course, and pass'd on; What vast-built cities—what

and phrenology; What of liberty and slavery among them—what they thought of death and the soul; Who were

O I know that those men and women were not for nothing, any more than we are for nothing; I know that

Do their lives, cities, arts, rest only with us? Did they achieve nothing for good, for themselves?

earth, and of his or her body, understands by subtle analogies all other theories, The theory of a city

O the streets of cities! The flitting faces—the expressions, eyes, feet, cos- tumes costumes !

Let those that were prisoners take the keys! (Say! why might they not just as well be transposed?)

Let the Asiatic, the African, the European, the Ameri- can American , and the Australian, go armed against

Let there be wealthy and immense cities—but through any of them, not a single poet, savior, knower, lover

The City Dead-House THE CITY DEAD-HOUSE.

BY the City Dead-House, by the gate, As idly sauntering, wending my way from the clangor, I curious pause—for

NOW list to my morning's romanza; To the cities and farms I sing, as they spread in the sunshine before

, The best farms—others toiling and planting, and he unavoidably reaps, The noblest and costliest cities—others

things in their attitudes; He puts to-day out of himself, with plasticity and love; He places his own city

that men and women were flexible, real, alive! that every- thing everything was alive!

To think of all these wonders of city and country, and others taking great interest in them—and we taking

Do you enjoy yourself in the city? or engaged in business?

7 It is not to diffuse you that you were born of your mother and father—it is to identify you, It is

The threads that were spun are gathered, the weft crosses the warp, the pattern is systematic.

all—None refuse, all attend; Armies, ships, antiquities, the dead, libraries, paintings, machines, cities

my clothes were stolen while I was abed, Now I am thrust forth, where shall I run?

west, as they lie unclothed, The Asiatic and African are hand in hand—the Eu- ropean European and American

sight of products —they shall enjoy the sight of the beef, lumber, bread-stuffs, of Chicago, the great city

FIRST, O songs, for a prelude, Lightly strike on the stretch'd tympanum, pride and joy in my city, How

costumes of peace with indifferent hand; How your soft opera-music changed, and the drum and fife were

Forty years had I in my city seen soldiers parading; Forty years as a pageant—till unawares, the Lady

The blood of the city up—arm'd! arm'd!

Old matron of the city! this proud, friendly, turbulent city!

sea-bird, and look down as from a height; I do not deny the precious results of peace—I see pop- ulous populous

cities, with wealth incalculable; I see numberless farms—I see the farmers working in their fields or

spacious and haughty States, (nor any five, nor ten;) Nor market nor depot are we, nor money-bank in the city

sonorous voice ringing across the continent; Your masculine voice, O year, as rising amid the great cities

Green the midsummer verdure, and fresh blows the dal- lying dallying breeze, O'er proud and peaceful cities

not with terror; But suddenly, pouring about me here, on every side, And below there where the boys were

Twenty thousand were brought against us, A veteran force, furnish'd with good artillery.

close together, very compact, their flag flying in the middle; But O from the hills how the cannon were

day; But the night of that, mist lifting, rain ceasing, Silent as a ghost, while they thought they were

WHEN I heard the learn'd astronomer; When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;