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At the marriage of a German prince with an English princess, when the bridegroom said, "With all my worldly

Me, master, years a hundred since from my parents sundered.

almost human tenderness in the atmosphere, to get up and go out, and as I was being wheeled about by my

But I staid just a little too long in my unaccustomed wanderings, because I had not been out before during

It was after sunset when I got back to my home, and I enjoyed my supper better than I had for many a

I can read the magazines, and my friends from abroad keep me advised as to what is going on in the world

"Every fine day I have my stalwart attendant wheel me out, often to the Federal street ferry, where,

As Carlyle says in his life of John Sterling, many of my seances with O'Reilly are written in star-fire

meeting at Young's was a most memorable one, and Emerson was kind enough to select the passages from my

England are imperative and I must soon sail for merrie England, and after a short stay I will keep my

promise to visit you and to renew my pleasant memories of the Pacific slope.'

My last visit to Camden was early in October, before I went abroad.

An autograph letter of Walt's was sold in this city last Spring for $80 to my knowledge."

It will be the whole expression of the design which I had in my mind When I Began to Write.

Now, that is the way it has been with my book. It has been twenty-five years building.

My theory in making the book is to give A Recognition of All Elements compacted in one— e pluribus unum

"My poetry," continued Mr.

Many of my friends have no patience with my opinion on this matter.

Whitman recited "John Anderson, my Jo, John."

my Captain!

O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!

my Captain!

My Captain does not answer; his lips are pale and still; My Father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse

But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

"I found this in my coat," he said. "I don't often put on this coat.

My names are Song, Love, Art. My poet, now unbar the door."

"Art's dead, Song cannot touch my hear, My once love's name I chant no more."

It puts me in mind of my visit to a church when I was a boy.

It was a Presbyterian church and the preacher was in a high box above my head.

Of my own life and writings I estimate the giving thanks part, with what it infers, as essentially the

picture of Wilson Barrett, the English actor, having upon it, inscribed in bold sign-manual: "I place my

"Tell them," he said, "that in my mind I feel quite vigorous; but that in body I am well used up with

"What's all this about, my boy?"

"Is it a patent of nobility, or is it an address from a lot of my young friends?"

My paralysis has made me so lame lately that I had to give up even my walks for health, let alone my

rambles in the country, and my constitution has suffered for exercise.

TO EASE MY DECLINING YEARS.

"My 'Leaves of Grass,'" said the old gentleman, "I will publish as I wrote it, minor revisions excepted

I have known that Cleveland is a reader and admirer of my books, but I really don't know anything at

Did I ever tell you the caution my doctor gave me when I left Washington?

"Then you are welcome to my home," Walt Whitman replied, giving him both his hands.

"I call it my war paralysis," said the poet.

Lovering," Poet Whitman said, "wrote to me about five weeks ago, saying that my Boston friends wished

Lovering, of the Committee on Pensions, who was favorable to the project, and asking my consent.

It was whilst assisting at a surgical operation that I became poisoned throughout my system, after which

I became prostrated by hospital malaria, which finally caused my paralysis."

"I rode through it to-day with my friend, Senator Armstrong, and went to see my other ancient friend,

I also poid my respects to that most intelligent octogenarian, Mr.

found out the great secret, and I hope to meet their posterity and their friends and followers during my

I am spry no longer, but my spirits are as high-flown as ever.

Childs as a man whose hand is open as the day, but I never met him more than twice in all my life.

I could do my work much better with ink-blotches about me and a litter around and with a few broken chairs

My feeling towards him is something more than admiration—it partakes of reverence."

The moment Garfield came over to our side of the car, I gave him my seat and I took his.

It is that part of my endeavor which has caused the harshest criticism and prevented candid examination

Still I have gone on adding, building up, persevering, so far as I am able to do, in my original intention

"I am not embittered by my lack of success.

My last volume is in response to the interest of my friends abroad."

Chairman Grey delivered the address of welcome, to which the poet responded briefly as follows: "My friends

All I have felt the imperative conviction to say I have already printed in my books of poems or prose

Deeply acknowledging this deep compliment with my best respects and love to you personally—to Camden—to

Give more than my regards to Walt Whitman, who has won such a splendid victory over the granitic pudding-heads

Sir Edwin rushed toward him and exclaimed, "My dear friend, I am delighted to see you."

It stirs the cockle of my blood to read the nice things you say of me."

"Have you some of my poetry in your memory?" exclaimed the aged poet.

"My eyes are feeling pretty badly, and yesterday and to-day I consulted Dr.

I have lost my poise in walking and cannot promenade at all.

I go out every day in my carriage, and a friend of mine, Willie Duckett, a neighbor's little boy, always

I still retain my hopeful, bouyant spirits. I feel better to-night than I have for several days."

Whitman said: "I am jogging along in the old pathway and my old manner, able to be wheeled about some

days and in rainy weather content to stay shut up in my den, where I have society enough in my books

I see a good many actors, who seem to have a fondness for my society. The death of George H.

"Tennyson still writes to me, as do Buchanan and my German friends.

"John Burroughs is my oldest literary friend now living.

Olympian day at the Ritterhouse, when Whitman and Burroughs visited us together, I told Whitman of my

the case, I examined the accounts given on this subject, by the four Evangelists, and according to my

scripture evidence for his being the son of Joseph than otherwise ; although it has not yet changed my

mighty bulwark, not easily removed, yet it has had this salutary effect, to deliver me from judging my

they were in the same belief with myself; neither would I dare to say, positively, that it would be my

how often has my poor soul been brought to this point, when temptations have arisen, 'Get thee behind

I have foreknown Clearly all things that should be; nothing done Comes sudden to my soul; and I must

Southey thus records his own birth:— "My birthday was Friday, 12th August, 1774; the time, half-past

According to my astrological friend Gilbert, it was a few minutes before the half hour, 161 pleasure.

There is an image in Kehama, drawn from my recollection of the devilish malignity which used sometimes

Meantime Madoc sleeps, and my lucre of-gain-compilation (specimens of English Poets) goes on at night

, when I am fairly obliged to lay history aside, because it perplexes me in my dreams.

justified in the profound contempt which they have entertained for the mass of historical works. ' Give me my

is as untenable as our own famous saying—"A little more grape, Captain Bragg!"

nature shrinking from thy rough embrace, Than summer, with her rustling robe of green, Cool blowing in my

delight; Even the saint that stands Tending the gate of heaven, involved in beams Of rarest glory, to my

No mesh of flowers is bound about my brow; From life's fair summer I am hastening now.

And as I sink my knee, Dimpling the beauty of thy bed of snow, Dowerless, I can but say, O, cast me not

I began to feel very much numbed with the cold, and my eyes suffered a good deal from the glare of the

I was now only able to take three steps at a time without stopping, as my legs began to give way, and

I attribute my being able to reach the top to my wind; I never felt want of breath at any time, while

M., with my hands cut to bits, my nails worn to the quick with holding on, I reached the hut and there

One of my eyes is completely 'bunged up,' the other just enables me to see to write this.

fond thoughts my soul beguiled;— It was herself!

I've set my heart upon nothing, you see; Hurrah! And so the world goes well with me.

I set my heart at first upon wealth; And bartered away my peace and health; But, ah!

I set my heart upon sounding fame; And, lo! I'm eclipsed by some upstart's And, ah!

And then I set my heart upon war. We gained some battles with eclat.

to one of his mystical treatises (De Cœlo et Inferno) he says:— "I was dining very late one day at my

London (this was in seventeen hundred and forty-three)—and was eating heartily.— When I was finishing my

That night the eyes of my inner man were opened, and enabled to look into heaven, the world of spirits

, and hell; and there I saw many persons of my acquaintance, some dead long before, and others recently

Instantly there was presented before my eyes a woman exactly resembling the women in that earth.— She

And still more strikingly Othello says: "Every puny whipster gets my sword: for why should honor outlive

In Captain Church's history of Philip's war, there are innumerable incidents for the painter.

Towards the close of the war, when Philip's followers were nearly all slain, and his ruin near, the captain

Tho generous old captain, touched by the picture of the chief's distress, allowed him to seize his gun

My Dear Friend, Tis a long time since I have had the pleasure of hearing from you so I fear you did not

I am getting around quite lively on just a single cane and my health is good.

Now good bye, my good freind and may heaven keep you safe from harm. Anson Ryder, Jun.

My Dear Uncle W, Your very kind letter of the 16th was duly received and appreciated to the best of my

I do not know whether there are any characters among my neighbors that would interest you particular

Wood is with [me] here at my old home says it is not very natural here does not seem at all like an hospital

Bowling Green Febry February 24th 1867 My Dear Friend I was thinking to day today whether I had answered

good berth in Tennessee but being of a modest disposition of course I cannot call his attention to my

This is my excuse for profering proffering this request and I entertain the hope that you will graciously

That he obtained your goods & service under false pretenses is perfectly certain to my mind .

would let me have some property which he had no earthly use for viz some books which had once been in my

private library a $150 bookcase which had been in my library 5 or 6 years before I thought of going

pay you $200.00 (just what was due Dec 1st '74) In another place he binds himself to carry out all my

I have done for 3 or 4 years, day & night & sunday, to get justice out of this fellow for myself & my

But as I did not receive an answer from you, and thinking that my letter miscarried, I concluded to write

My dear old friend Mr. Whitman So many years have passed since we last saw each other.

that you remember me , and the old home on M.Street —and the dear old "Cherry Tree" " where you and my

Sevellon Brown, Sackett my son were there also.

Although many years have passed since you lived at my house and many changes have come to us, still,

hope this may reach you, it would give me a great deal of pleasure to know that you remember me and my

In the afterlife, the soul's immaterial body, "transcending my senses and flesh . . . finally loves,

the third (1860) edition, "Starting from Paumanok," announced Whitman's intention to "make poems of my

body and of mortality . . . of my soul and of immortality" (section 6).

In "Scented Herbage of My Breast" and "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking" the poet searches for words

with minor masterpieces of affecting readiness for death: "After the Supper and Talk" and "Good-Bye my

dog's snout" (section 2), a "milk-nosed maggot" (section 2), and other loathsome visages—that they are "my

I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines . . . my own master total and absolute" (section

"[u]nfolded only out of the inimitable poems of woman can come the poems of man, (only thence have my

milieu.For thirty-four lines thereafter the persona becomes the ambulatory wound-dresser, moving among "my

bandages, water, and sponge" (section 2), he attends each soldier "with impassive hand, (yet deep in my

—They retard my book very much" (Correspondence 1:44).

In 1954 my own L'Evolution de Walt Whitman après la première édition des "Feuilles d'herbe" offered to

(It has been hailed with enthusiasm by reviewers, though is is less faithful to the text than my own.

I have lost my wits . . . I and nobody else am the greatest traitor . . .

You villain touch, what are you doing . . . my breath is tight in its throat; Unclench your floodgates

My soul! . . . My ties and ballasts leave me . . . I travel, I sail.