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Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892

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


More and more, too, the _old name_ absorbs into me--MANNAHATTA, "the
place encircled by many swift tides and sparkling waters." How fit a
name for America's great democratic island city! The word itself, how
beautiful! how aboriginal! how it seems to rise with tall spires,
glistening in sunshine, with such New World atmosphere, vista and
action!

A SICK SPELL
_Christmas Day, 25th Dec., 1888_.--Am somewhat easier and freer to-day
and the last three days--sit up most of the time--read and write, and
receive my visitors. Have now been in-doors sick for seven months
--half of the time bad, bad, vertigo, indigestion, bladder, gastric,
head trouble, inertia--Dr. Bucke, Dr. Osler, Drs. Wharton and
Walsh--now Edward Wilkins my help and nurse. A fine, splendid, sunny
day. My "November Boughs" is printed and out; and my "Complete Works,
Poems and Prose," a big volume, 900 pages, also. It is ab't noon, and
I sit here pretty comfortable.

TO BE PRESENT ONLY
_At the Complimentary Dinner, Camden, New Jersey, May 31, 1889_.--Walt
Whitman said: My friends, though announced to give an address, there
is no such intention. Following the impulse of the spirit, (for I am
at least half of Quaker stock) I have obey'd the command to come and
look at you, for a minute, and show myself, face to face; which is
probably the best I can do. But I have felt no command to make a
speech; and shall not therefore attempt any. All I have felt the
imperative conviction to say I have already printed in my books of
poems or prose; to which I refer any who may be curious.


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