WALT WHITMAN AUTOGRAPH LETTERS 1890 August 19 WHITMAN, WALT To J. A. Symonds, Camden ALS PT: Harold Blodgett, Walt Whitman in England (1934) 66 AL draft 1 p (pieced) FEINBERG COLLECTION OF WALT WHITMANAug 19 90 - Sent to Symonds Switzerland Yr's of Aug 3 just recd & glad to hear from you as always - abt the little portraits I cheerfully endorse the Munich reproduction of any of them you propose or any thing of the sort you [may] choose - (I may soon send you [soon] one other preferable portraits of self) [may be preferable) ] - - Suppose you have rec'd papers & slips - sent of late - Abt the questions on Calamus pieces &c. they quite dare me [My] L of G. is only to be [?] rightly construed [as a whole] by and [in] within its own atmosphere and essential character - all of its pages & pieces so coming strictly under [that] - - that the calamus part has even [open'd] allow'd the possibility of such construction as mentioned is terrible - I am fain to hope the pages themselves are not to be [blamed] ever mention'd for such gratuitous and quite at the time entirely undream'd - [of] & unreck'd [of] possibility of morbid inferences - wh- [I sh'd say] are disavow'd by me & seem damnable. Then One great [One great] difference between you and me, temperament & theory, is restraint - I know that while I have a horror of ranting & bawling, [but] at certain moments [I] let the spirit, impulse, (? demon) rage its utmost, its wildest! damndest - (I feel to do so in my L of G. & I do so). I'll end the matter by saying I wholly stand by L of G. as it & is, long as all parts & pages are construed as I said by their own ensemble, spirit & atmosphere I live here 72 yrs old & completely paralyzed - brain & - right arm abt same as ever - digestion, sleep, appetite &c: fair - - sight & hearing half-and-half - [digestion,] spirits fair - locomotive power (legs) [a utter] almost utterly gone - am propell'd outdoors [ever almost] nearly every day - get down to the river side here, the Delaware, an hour at sunset - The writing and rounding of L of G. has been [the my] to me the reason - for - being & life's comfort. My life, young manhood, mid-age, times South &c: have all been jolly, bodily, [and] probably open to criticism. Tho' [an] always unmarried I have had six children - two are dead - one living southern grandchild, fine boy, who writes to me occasionally, Circumstances connected with their benefit and foster have separated me from intimate[d] relations. [from them] I see I have written [this] with haste & too great effusion - but let it stand.Miss Dora Warnecke, San Pablo, Contra Costa Co., California I think you will recollect Matilda Gurd (a sister of my wife's) She lived in Sarnia in '80 and you were in her mother's house one evening. Matilda has lived sick (Peritonitis - ) and died yesterday morning before daylight. We shall bury her body at Sarnia tomorrow. I have your letter of 5th with enclosures and paper with "Death - bouquet." Thanks for all. Love to you - I shall write again in a few days RM Bucke ADDRESS TO THE VETERANS By William Errickson. Another twelve month-passed and gone Among the vanished hours, Since you assembled here to deck Those soldier graves with flowers. -- Comrades, who answered muster-roll When foes our land had riven, Whose spirits freed now swell the ranks Of God, the King of Heaven. They've onward marched in war and peace To the great camp above And while the Union stands they'll be Remembered in our love. And every year let children come -- Come all and none forbid, And tell them as the flowers are tonight [??????] With souls of valiant men. Still others co[*a]me and fill[*'d*] the ranks Depleted in the strife.-- Leaving all they loved behind To save the nation's life. And many a grave -- unmarked -- unknown -- 'Neath Southern soil, was made In thicket, dell, and wild-wood bower Wherein our boys were laid. No friendly hand with beaming flowers Will deck their graves to-day -- But stillness shrouds the mouldering forms Of loved ones far away. At Arlington is reared a mound And great memorial stones, To mark the spot where buried lie Three thousand soldier's bones -- Unknown, from many a battle-field Beneath the southern sky -- Brought there to rest forevermore Where mouldering legions lie. And tributes to the brave Unknown, in bold relief appears, To hear a mighty people's thanks Upon the tide of years. This sacred mound of mingled dead, With fragrant flowers of May, Will by faithful hands, and soft, be garlanded to-day. What though oblivion hides those names That were in battle lost? Historic page shows not so well What our great Union cost As does that solemn grassy mound, With cannon ranging wide, O'er mingled bodies of the brave Near fair Potomac's tide. The mounds you decorate to-day, Along this peaceful shore [??????] Embalmed as [???] Her brave, that slumber near the Nile, For several thousand years. And forty centuries of time Have o'er an Empire sped Where Chinese -- heathens one and all -- Revere their ancient dead. But grand as it may be in war To win a patriots name -- These you defended know full well You cannot live on fame, You're growing old -- gray hairs appear And cluster on each brow -- The Government -- you saved, it should Do something for you now. And if my arm the power could wield, As sure as shines yon sun, I'd say: -- "Old men bring on your claims I'll pension every one -- Who fought and served our land to save -- Faced death upon the sea, -- Then homeward turned when war was o'er And left our people free."