Search Results

A.MS. draft and notes.loc.00268xxx.00263[Thou knowest my]about 1874poetryhandwritten1 leaf; A draft of

[Thou knowest my]

thee, And royal feudal Europe sails with thee. 5 Beautiful world of new superber birth that rises to my

(Lo, where arise three peerless stars, To be thy natal stars my country, Ensemble, Evolution, Freedom

thee, And royal feudal Europe sails with thee. 5 Beautiful world of new superber birth that rises to my

(Lo, where arise three peerless stars, To be thy natal stars my country, Ensemble, Evolution, Freedom

my special word to thee. Hear me illustrious!

wood edge, thy touching-distant beams enough, Or man matured, or young or old, as now to thee I launch my

launch thy subtle dazzle and thy strength for these, Prepare the later afternoon of me myself—prepare my

lengthen- ing lengthening shadows, Prepare my starry nights.

my special word to thee. Hear me illustrious!

wood edge, thy touching-distant beams enough, Or man matured, or young or old, as now to thee I launch my

launch thy subtle dazzle and thy strength for these, Prepare the later afternoon of me myself—prepare my

lengthen- ing lengthening shadows, Prepare my starry nights.

Here it is a call for help, an invocation, a word Whitman actually uses ("as now to thee I launch my

prepares for old age and death, as his images may hint: "Prepare the later afternoon of me myself—prepare my

lengthening shadows / Prepare my starry nights."

it harm'd me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—as if it were not indispensable to my

AS I sit with others at a great feast, suddenly while the music is playing, To my mind, (whence it comes

AS I sit with others at a great feast, suddenly while the music is playing, To my mind, (whence it comes

it harm'd me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—as if it were not indispensable to my

50-51uva.00190xxx.00413xxx.00047Thought [Of closing up my songs by these]1857-1859poetryhandwritten2

Thought [Of closing up my songs by these]

Of This Union, soak'd, welded in blood—of the solemn price paid—of the unnamed lost, ever present in my

passing, departing—of the growth of completer men than any yet, Of myself, soon, perhaps, closing up my

, are, Of this Union welded in blood, of the solemn price paid, of the unnamed lost ever present in my

, are, Of this Union welded in blood, of the solemn price paid, of the unnamed lost ever present in my

sake, Of departing—of the growth of a mightier race than any yet, Of myself, soon, perhaps, closing up my

it harm'd me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—As if it were not indispensable to my

it harmed me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—As if it were not indispensable to my

AS I sit with others, at a great feast, suddenly, while the music is playing, To my mind, (whence it

AS I sit with others, at a great feast, suddenly, while the music is playing, To my mind, (whence it

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

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

My impression of W's appearance at this date is a favorable one: though it is clear enough that his recent

Often he points me about the rooms: "Poor as these are, they are a comfort to me—my own—giving me freedom

My only uncompromising friend in the family is probably Watson—he swears to me—not everything in me,

When I was in Denver I spent my longest hours in contemplation of the mountain ranges."

I took off my hat to the compliment.

Again—inquiring what papers I had in my hand, he looked at Harper's Weekly and Young People—remarking

Though how a fellow can be a Leaves-of-Grass-man and fall into such a ditch defeats all my explanations

"I have thought, how much can be done with stained glass—how much has been done: have thought of my own

I want to come—it is part of my duty yet while living, if I can.

My hope has been diminishing little by little, but not yet to a total negative."

"But give my love to all the ferry boys—to Ed Lindell, to Tommy—Tommy Logan—to Foxy, to Eugene Crosby

was not relieved, he said "I don't dare to say I am, for fear I may fall back again—get shame of all my

All the time during the rest of my stay he had the soap at his nose.

My dear sir,I fear that the Passage to India is a poem too long and too abstract for the hasty and the

My dear Whitman,The Voice of the Rain does not tempt me, and I return it herewith with thanks.Yours ever

My dear Sir:I greatly regret being unable to avail myself of the Poems November Boughs which you so kindly

I have spent a fearfully depressed day—one of my worst—everything heavy, uncertain, whirling.

But my idea is, that Shakespeare, Browning, unexpressibly grand as their work has been, are democrats

Bonsall may be mistaken—but my guess now would be that it's a good sample of the damned sneaking editorial

It is a very good picture—one of the best in its way—that is my verdict.

It is a long story of woe—a catalogue of impecuniosities—this record of my printed labor!"

This always arouses my fears.

As I groped my way for a chair, after shaking hands with him, I asked how he had spent the day.

But he added, after Ed had gone out: "I feel much better now—have felt much better ever since I had my

is made too prominent—when it is indeed insisted upon—when it is too much poked in one's face—I turn my

Perhaps it would be as well to wait and what S. had to say, if anything, in response to my letter.

don't say my say for me in the most conclusive way.

I am doing my job in my way: it don't suit them: they growl, curse, ridicule: but what is left for Walt

I have loved you for years with my whole heart and soul.

And yet I am a writer and make a living by my pen.

I am proud of my feeling for you.

The worst thing lately has been the clutch of my old monster—the grip.

And it fatally—almost fatally—affects my hearing.

If I talk myself, or listen to others talk, a while, I seem to lose my hearing utterly."

McKay wondered if W. expected him to publish "Good-Bye My Fancy."

My only ambition has been to not contradict—break—in 'Good-Bye' any of the great foundation laid in the

has been in stress and strain for several days over the serious illness of Warren's grandfather, Captain

I got my estimate on a thousand." W. then: "Well, I don't know but I'll have a thousand anyway."

My head is in a bad state tonight. I must not worry it with anything at all."

Day by day, in these older years of my life, I see how lucky I was that I was myself thrown out early

I was in a sense a boy of the farm and the streets; it was my fate, my good fate.

Sometimes I do my duty: not always: not because I live by any special method. Duty, duty.

They talked about matter of fact things in a matter of fact way—about their aunts and uncles and my aunts

When I got up to leave and went across the room to W. he took and held my hand and said very seriously

This has not been one of my best days, nor one of my worst, either.

I put in my question again about economics.

"It's getting to be my steady diet," he said. Did not look well or feel well.

"My sluggish blood forces me to appeal to outside fires."

It is all out of my hands now, and I do hope everything will turn out well.

Did you ever read his Story of My Heart? ["No," said W.]

cuss did me lots of good: he left me temporarily in a quarrelsome mood: I hated the room here, and my

lame leg, and my dizzy head: I got hungry for the sun again, for the hills: and though Mary brought

me up a good supper she didn't bring the sort of food required to satisfy a fellow with my appetite.

But later, next day, yesterday, the tramp's gift got into my veins—it was a slow process, but got there

My brother thinks so much of Mr.

I suppose I might have been more suspicious but for my dislike for one of our liveliest American qualities—suspicion

For my own satisfaction I went deliberately through 'Leaves of Grass' several times, but no sign!

"I forgot all about his name," he exclaimed, "my usual habit—nowadays!"

In my old days I take on the usual privilege of years—to go slow, to be less vehement, to trust more

means democracy, says democracy—seems to take easy hold of what I hope is ever and ever the point of my

It is to be my treat.

Asked me if Castle was "any good" any more—and upon my negative, "Well I supposed not, as a singer—but

Only yesterday, Doctor, my friend Sylvester Baxter, of the Boston Herald, was in here to know if I would

But, Horace, I am afraid my back is turned for good." Thursday, August 13, 1891

Showed him my column in Conservator about Newman and O'Reilly.

I think I shall remodel my piece (that I sent Walsh of Lippincott's) and make it into a review of the

Kennett Square, Penna.Nov. 12, 1866.My dear Sir: I send to you by the same mail which takes this note

, a copy of my last poem The Picture of St.

The age is over-squeamish, and, for my part, I prefer the honest nude to the suggestive half-draped.

If I had stopped to dispute with my enemies, even to dally or luxuriate with my friends, the book would

"Here are the proofs—but, Horace, do not rely upon my readings.

In fact, all my experiences South—all my experiences in the hospitals, among the soldiers in the crowds

Then read.Montenotte, Cork,Sept. 3, 1872.My dear Mr.

My address is as before, 50, Wellington Road, Dublin.

He took my hand—pressed it fervently. "I am in luck. Are you?

You may think these strong words & that I have an exaggerated estimate of my dear friend's abilities,

I confess it had quite slipped my mind. I must take it up.

Fels, Jennie May, and my sister Agnes.

I went in first—he greeted me—then saw and recognized Aggie—said: "How are you, my dear?"

My friends the Staffords lived away from the town—had a farm.

and on my shaking my head: "Well—I have—particularly years ago—in younger years.

Kissed him goodby—he held my hand warmly—said "Goodnight boy—goodnight! We'll meet again!"

Here is the letter:Farmington, Maine,Aug. 21, 1888.My dear Mr.

My own family is for calling me 'Walt'—all of my family. Dr.

"Don't that bear out my idea?"

I clapped my hands. He threw his arms out as if in acknowledgment of applause.

He laughed at my dig.

At my reminder he gave me the "Good-Bye" for Morse and with it a "sculptor's profile" and a copy, unmounted

"He saw trouble ahead, or possible—my iron hand, my death—that he now sells without contract—don't know

I am finally determined to act upon your counsel (which is my own, too), to put 'A Backward Glance' at

And to set the book now into a shape in which, if my wishes are regarded, it will always remain—marked

, sealed, with my final word, hope."

He said, "I want to read this from Holmes at my leisure."

To which, "Probably not"—with a laugh—"but Holmes has plenty to help him bring me down from my conceit

Should any chance lose me my memorandum book, and the books not numbered, the case would be hopeless.

Bucke by having to make time—by a trip, in fact, to my old home at West Hills.

But there are three or four of my very most intimate friends—those nearest, best understanding me—who

thoroughly realize that my disposition is to hear all—the worst word that is said—the ignorantest—whatever

I can never get them to print my pictures as I want them—with an inclination towards the top of the page—certainly

I do not want anything my fault to interfere with your progress.

It never quite approves itself to my eyes but I yield.

"I shall like to have it right here where I can put my hands on it—and my eyes."

Then we need title pages for your set and Bucke's and my own, and contents for all.

yes, Redpath was always partial to me—even went out of his way to curl my hair.

My only feeling in the matter is one of intense curiosity.

Give my love to Horace and say to him that I will write him soon.

My trip is agreeing with me and I am as well and hearty as possible.Best love to youR. M.

It would only add to my cares.

any injustice—though Dave is quite in my hands now, if I choose to crush him.