FEINBERG/WHITMAN LITERARY FILE POETRY FILE "To the Sunset Breeze" (1890) Proof Sheets (DCN1255) Box 30 Folder 8 Includes A. MS.S. corrections & notations.[*1707*] 1889 August and September-- 1891 9 March To the Sun-set Breeze: Proof, Signed. A.MS.s. ([1]5 p. 20 1/2 x 15 1/4 cm.) Written in ink at the bottom of a proof of "To the Sun-set Breeze', a 16-line poem, with Traubel's notation (see Notes March 9 1891), 2 words: [*(correct 'l' in line 6)*] Walt Whitman [*('l' written over '!' in 'elements' in line 6)*] Four other proofs, same poem: 1) without printed signature; 2) with signature and notation written by Whitman, 6 words-- Aug: & Sept: '89 Walt Whitman [*('E!ements' in line 6)*] 3) with signature and notation by Whitman, 20 words-- pub'd in Lippincott's Mag--Dec: '90 Walt Whitman [*('elements' in line 6)*] rejected by "Harper's Monthly" as a mere improvisation rejected by "Nineteenth Century" [*[over]*][*1708*] 4) with printed signature. [*("Elements" in line 6 has been corrected by handwritten 'l' over '!').*][*Aug: & Sept: '89*] TO THE SUN-SET BREEZE. Ah, whispering, something again, unseen, Where late this heated day thou enterest at my window, door, Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-freshing, gently vitalizing Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, melted-worn with sweat; Thou, nestling, folding close and firm yet soft, companion better than talk, book, art, (Thou hast, O Nature! elements! utterance to my heart beyond the rest--and this is of them,) So sweet thy primitive taste to breathe within--thy soothing fingers on my face and hands, Thou, messenger-magical strange bringer to body and spirit of me, (Distances balk'd--occult medicines penetrating me from head to foot.) I feel the sky, the prairies vast __ I feel the mighty northern lakes, I feel the ocean and the forest __ somehow I feel the globe itself swift-swimming in space; Thou blown from lips so loved, now gone __ haply from endless store, God-sent, (For thou art spiritual, Godly, most of all known to my sense,) Minister to speak to me, here and now, what word has never told, and cannot tell, Art thou not universal concrete's distillation? Law's, all As-Astronomy's last refinement? Hast thou no soul? Can I not know, identify thee? [*Walt Whitman*]TO THE SUN-SET BREEZE. Ah, whispering, something again, unseen, Where late this heated day thou enterest at my window, door, Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-freshing, gently vitalizing Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, melted-worn with sweat; Thou, nestling, folding close and firm yet soft, companion better than talk, book, art, (Thou hast, O Nature! elements! utterance to my heart beyond the rest -- and this is of them,) So sweet thy primitive taste to breathe within -- thy soothing fingers on my face and hands, Thou, messenger-magical strange bringer to body and spirit of me, (Distances balk'd -- occult medicines penetrating me from head to foot.) I feel the sky, the prairies vast __ I feel the mighty northern lakes, I feel the ocean and the forest __ somehow I feel the globe itself swift-swimming in space; Thou blown from lips so loved, now gone __ haply from endless store, God-sent, (For thou art spiritual, Godly, most of all known to my sense,) Minister to speak to me, here and now, what word has never told, and cannot tell, Art thou not universal concrete's distillation? Law's, all As-Astronomy's last refinement? Hast thou no soul? Can I not know, identify thee?TO THE SUN-SET BREEZE. Ah, whispering, something again, unseen, Where late this heated day thou enterest at my window, door, Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-freshing, gently vitalizing Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, melted-worn with sweat; Thou, nestling, folding close and firm yet soft, companion better than talk, book, art, (Thou hast, O Nature! elements! utterance to my heart beyond the rest -- and this is of them,) So sweet thy primitive taste to breathe within -- thy soothing fingers on my face and hands, Thou, messenger-magical strange bringer to body and spirit of me, (Distances balk'd -- occult medicines penetrating me from head to foot.) I feel the sky, the prairies vast __ I feel the mighty northern lakes, I feel the ocean and the forest __ somehow I feel the globe itself swift-swimming in space; Thou blown from lips so loved, now gone __ haply from endless store, God-sent, (For thou art spiritual, Godly, most of all known to my sense,) Minister to speak to me, here and now, what word has never told, and cannot tell, Art thou not universal concrete's distillation? Law's, all As-Astronomy's last refinement? Hast thou no soul? Can I not know, identify thee? WALT WHITMAN.[*see note March 9 1891*] TO THE SUN-SET BREEZE. Ah, whispering, something again, unseen, Where late this heated day thou enterest at my window, door, Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-freshing, gently vitalizing Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, melted-worn with sweat; Thou, nestling, folding close and firm yet soft, companion better than talk, book, art, (Thou hast, O Nature! elements! utterance to my heart beyond the rest __ and this is of them,) So sweet thy primitive taste to breathe within __ thy soothing fingers on my face and hands, Thou, messenger-magical strange bringer to body and spirit of me, (Distances balk'd __ occult medicines penetrating me from head to foot.) I feel the sky, the prairies vast __ I feel the mighty northern lakes, I feel the ocean and the forest __ somehow I feel the globe itself swift-swimming in space; Thou blown from lips so loved, now gone __ haply from endless store, God-sent, (For thou art spiritual, Godly, most of all known to my sense,) Minister to speak to me, here and now, what word has never told, and cannot tell, Art thou not universal concrete's distillation? Law's, all As-Astronomy's last refinement? Hast thou no soul? Can I not know, identify thee? Walt Whitman[*pub'd in Lippincott's Mag - Dec: '90*] TO THE SUN-SET BREEZE. Ah, whispering, something again, unseen, Where late this heated day thou enterest at my window, door, Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-freshing, gently vitalizing Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, melted-worn with sweat; Thou, nestling, folding close and firm yet soft, companion better than talk, book, art, (Thou hast, O Nature! elements! utterance to my heart beyond the rest __ and this is of them,) So sweet thy primitive taste to breathe within __ thy soothing fingers on my face and hands, Thou, messenger-magical strange bringer to body and spirit of me, (Distances balk'd __ occult medicines penetrating me from head to foot.) I feel the sky, the prairies vast __ I feel the mighty northern lakes, I feel the ocean and the forest __ somehow I feel the globe itself swift-swimming in space; Thou blown from lips so loved, now gone __ haply from endless store, God-sent, (For thou art spiritual, Godly, most of all known to my sense,) Minister to speak to me, here and now, what word has never told, and cannot tell, Art thou not universal concrete's distillation? Law's, all As-Astronomy's last refinement? Hast thou no soul? Can I not know, identify thee? Walt Whitman [*rejected by "Harper's Monthly" as a mere improvisation rejected by "Nineteenth Century"*][*1729*] 1890 December To the Sunset Breeze: Proof with Corrections. A. MS. (2p. 8 x 15 cm. on 24 x 15 1/2 cm., and 20 1/2 x 15 1/4 cm.) Written in ink on a proof of 'To the Sunset Breeze', a 16-line poem, without a printable[?] signature, which has been pasted on a longer piece of paper (actually the inside of a discarded and opened-up envelope, addressed to Walt Whitman, Camden, N. J.), 3 corrections: Line 9: ). changed to ,) Line 13: godly changed to Godly Line 15: comma inserted after Astronomy's In another proof, with Sun-set (instead of Sunset) in title, and set in larger and different type, line 9 has a period, not a comma inside the parenthesis; line 13 has Godly; line 15 does not have a comma after Astronomy's. The poem appeared in Lippincott's Magazine, December 1890, and in Goodbye My Fancy, 1891. (See 1955 Catalogue, No. 255.)TO THE SUN-SET BREEZE. Ah, whispering, something again, unseen, Where late this heated day thou enterest at my window, door, Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-freshing, gently vitalizing Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, melted-worn with sweat; Thou, nestling, folding close and firm yet soft, companion better than talk, book, art, (Thou hast, O Nature! elements! utterance to my heart beyond the rest -- and this is of them,) So sweet thy primitive taste to breathe within -- thy soothing fingers on my face and hands, Thou, messenger-magical strange bringer to body and spirit of me, (Distances balk'd -- occult medicines penetrating me from head to foot.) I feel the sky, the prairies vast __ I feel the mighty northern lakes, I feel the ocean and the forest __ somehow I feel the globe itself swift-swimming in space; Thou blown from lips so loved, now gone __ haply from endless store, God-sent (For thou art spiritual, Godly, most of all known to my sense,) Minister to speak to me, here and now, what word has never told, and cannot tell, Art thou not universal concrete's distillation? Law's all As-Astronomy's last refinement? Hast thou no soul? Can I not know, identify thee?TO THE SUNSET BREEZE. AH, whispering, something again, unseen, Where late this heated day thou enterest at my window, door, Thou, laving, tempering all, cool-freshing, gently vitalizing Me, old, alone, sick, weak-down, melted-worn with sweat; Thou, nestling, folding close and firm yet soft, companion better than talk, book, art, (Thou hast, O Nature! elements! utterance to my heart beyond the rest -- and this is of them,) So sweet thy primitive taste to breathe within -- thy soothing fingers on my face and hands, Thou, messenger-magical strange bringer to body and spirit of me, (Distances balk'd -- occult medicines penetrating me from head to foot[.],) I feel the sky, the prairies vast -- I feel the mighty northern lakes, I feel the ocean and the forest -- somehow I feel the globe itself swift-swimming in space; Thou blown from lips so loved, now gone -- haply from endless store, God-sent, (For thou art spiritual, [g]Godly, most of all known to my sense,) Minister to speak to me, here and now, what word has never told, and cannot tell, Art thou not universal concrete's distillation? Law's all Astronomy's, last refinement? Hast thou no soul? Can I not know, identify thee?Walt Whitman Camden NJCross Reference Literary File Poetry "To the Sun-set Breeze" Dec. 1890 Proof sheet. Includes A.MS. notations. See Rare Books Whitman, Walt, November Boughs (Philadelphia, 1888) (DCN322) #2322A