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Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892

"Complete Prose Works Specimen Days and Collect, November Boughs and Goodbye My Fancy"


The following from a report in the Washington "Star" of November 16,
1875, may afford those who care for it something further of my point
of view toward this interesting figure and influence of our era. There
occurr'd about that date in Baltimore a public reburial of Poe's
remains, and dedication of a monument over the grave:
"Being in Washington on a visit at the time, 'the old gray' went over
to Baltimore, and though ill from paralysis, consented to hobble up
and silently take a seat on the platform, but refused to make any
speech, saying, 'I have felt a strong impulse to come over and be
here to-day myself in memory of Poe, which I have obey'd, but not the
slightest impulse to make a speech, which, my dear friends, must also
be obeyed.' In an informal circle, however, in conversation after the
ceremonies, Whitman said: 'For a long while, and until lately, I had a
distaste for Poe's writings. I wanted, and still want for poetry, the
clear sun shining, and fresh air blowing--the strength and power of
health, not of delirium, even amid the stormiest passions--with always
the background of the eternal moralities. Non-complying with these
requirements, Poe's genius has yet conquer'd a special recognition for
itself, and I too have come to fully admit it, and appreciate it and
him.
"'In a dream I once had, I saw a vessel on the sea, at midnight, in
a storm. It was no great full-rigg'd ship, nor majestic steamer,
steering firmly through the gale, but seem'd one of those superb
little schooner yachts I had often seen lying anchor'd, rocking so
jauntily, in the waters around New York, or up Long Island sound--now
flying uncontroll'd with torn sails and broken spars through the wild
sleet and winds and waves of the night.


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