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  My dear Walt Whitman,

I intended to write you a good long letter tonight for tomorrow's mail, but circumstances quite prevent it. So I must content myself with a mere line or two of loving greeting & continued good wishes.

Doubtless Johnston will send you a long account of Dr Bucke's visit & Dr B will have sent you his   But I must send you my version too at the first opportunity.

Last week I got no proper opportunity of writing at all—to my great regret. So I must write when I can.

It has not only been a great joy to me to see Dr Bucke face to face, here in the room in which I write, & to talk with him about you, but it has brought you still nearer to me & I feel yet more strongly that we are friends indeed. And that is the crowning glory   & privilege of my life, opening out vistas of sacred cheer & hope & purposes.

God bless you for all you have done for me & for the friends I love. And my deepest love to you evermore.

Wallace