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nap of say four hours f'm 12 to 4 nearly every night)—an egg (fried very rare) with Graham br'd for my

Yesterday & to-day I am perceptibly better—Cooler & signs of September—Still adhere to my 2d story room

moment—I have somewhere a printed slip of "Old Age's Lambent Peaks" & will yet send it—but I cannot lay my

hand on it this moment—a cloudy rather pleasant day, almost cool—quiet—I reiterate the offer of my mare

well to-day—weather heavy, damp, cloudy to-day—have been feasting on strawberries (a big basket f'm my

Whitman: "Because you have, as it were, given me a ground for the love of men I thank you continually in my

ab't enough for some bills needing payment —O now I feel relieved— Nothing particularly different in my

November Boughs (1888) and Complete Poems & Prose: "I shall look upon them as the crown and summit of all my

little "Old Age's Lambent Peaks" appears in the just out Century —Maurice, I should like you to have my

L C Moulton is coming here this afternoon —I am reading Boswell's Johnson —My Elias Hicks plaster bust

dark wet day—raining hard outside as I sit here by the window—am feeling pretty well—have just had my

unawares—invites to swell dinners (or societies &c) invariably declined—Am idle & monotonous enough in my

weeks & life here—but upon the whole am mighty thankful it is no worse—my buying this shanty & settling

D[avis] to cook for me, might have been bettered by my disposing some other way —but I am satisfied it

Camden 9 P M March 19 '88 I was out yesterday to my friends the Harneds , & took a 3 or 4 mile drive

I am still confined to the room & chair—eat & drink moderately—my meals mostly mutton-broth with bits

badly off—worse—& I am much worried ab't him—he is laid up, mainly bed fast, in his house—very bad, at my

Whitman's housekeeper, took care of both Harry and Warren after the death of their father, the sea captain

Graham bread toasted, & a cup of chocolate—ate pretty well (this & yesterday are favorable days)—In my

eating neither at all ascetic nor sumptuous—pass two hours to-day putting my autograph to the poetic

Camden 1889 Saturday early P M June 1 — Well here I am, feeling fairly, commencing my 71st year.

turning (which were fortunately wide & easy) to the big banquet hall & big crowd, where I was roll'd to my

speeches from) outsiders—The compliments & eulogies to me were excessive & without break —But I fill'd my

Camden Aug: 14 '88 Sunny & cool to-day—nothing new in my case—bowel action—my lines on Sheridan's burial

were printed in Herald Aug: 12—(I am beginning to keep my bits & contributions, poetic spurts &c. again

out still undecided—not before than October anyhow—I still have the design of making a 900 page Vol. my

1888] I am about the same—Strangely somehow I don't get any more power in my body or legs—I feel pretty

as before—I have not left the room up stairs yet (now nine weeks)—the Doctor thinks it not best yet— My

all, & thought it best to hurry it done right off—But at present I am much as of late years, except my

few lines from Jeff (in St Louis)—I am now sitting in the big chair—Spend most of the day here—had my

.— Delightful day—am sitting here ab't as usual—had my breakfast ab't 9—(get my dinner ab't 4 or ½ past

send proof pages 119 to 127—part of "Elias Hicks" —In a few days shall send 118 & all the rest—I send my

My Complete Works , ab't 900 pp Vol: will be put to press nearly contemporaneously with the Nov.

recover strength or personal activity or any thing of that sort, the least particle—I have not left my

don't want them back)— If any gaps of the proof pages up to 104 exist, mention it & I will remit—Keep my

room yet—am sitting now (& in four fifths time day) in the capacious ratan-seated arm chair—my condition

inclusive —there will be ab't 20 more—I am more comfortable than you may suppose Sunset Have had & enjoyed my

My opine is that our dear O'Connor is better—jaunting at present for the time an easier road on plateau

than the C itself) —Ed Stafford has just call'd with some apples & a chicken— Saturday Sunset Have had my

dinner, stew'd chicken & rice pudding—have not left my room yet, but shall get down a few minutes to-morrow

new little "November Boughs" is slowly but steadily moving—Horace Traubel is invaluable to me in it—My

head in preparing my copies or reading proof is poorly, dull, raw, no weak grip, no consecutive, no

three days—good temperature, neither hot nor cold to-day—I neither improve nor really go back—Keep my

room rigidly yet—have had today a bowel movement—& sit up most of the time—eat my meals sufficiently

will document (witnessed by ocular witnesses as this state statute requires) and the designation of my

cool and raw—bad feeling in belly and head regions, all day so far—had the preluded coca-wine, & then my

breeze—I am pretty comfortable while I sit quietly & dawdle over papers &c. as the last three hours—but my

purpose—or write— Two letters rec'd from you to day—Mrs Harned sent me a first rate broiled chicken for my

letters from friends of long ago—have just answered to an old N Y Broadway driver—also just a word to my

Camden Tuesday Early PM July 17 '88 Pleasant weather warmish but not hot—my body strength & head grip

Mitchell suggested it yesterday afternoon—I feel better I suppose as I sit here, but my head is thick

to 92 inclusive proof sheets, those are all the printers given me to date—I am still sitting up—have my

Burroughs was still depressed: "I try to keep absorbed in my farm operations.

Horace Traubel —& by the best printers I have ever yet had—The Century people have just sent me again my

October number—bowel movements continue every day or other day—I take no drugs at all—have not moved from my

them)—I enclose Ernest Rhys's letter, just rec'd —also two letters for you—I believe they still print my

Ralph Waldo Emerson, Ellen Emerson, and Sanborn: "There was a general agreement with my position."

since that ill spell—Nothing special or new with me—bitter cold just now here, but sun shining to day—My

visitors—Morse still away west—the Smiths going to London early in summer—Mrs D[avis] has just been in to see to my

coal & to say we are to have apple pudding for dinner—it is chilly here as I finish this—my little bird

this, Mr Horace Traubel, a personal friend of mine, the same as you would with me, & consider him as my

or half-bad weather here—but I go out a little in the wheel-chair —was out yesterday—have just had my

Whitman: "Because you have, as it were, given me a ground for the love of men I thank you continually in my

The enclosed is f'm Rolleston who is or has been in Germany, (seems to have a magnetic draw thither)—My

he has sent the pay for it (I told you it was rejected by Harper's Weekly)—you must have just rec'd my

any more you want)—damp & dark, & very mild here—I have had a bath, & am sitting here alone—Warren my

and his brother Harry were the sons of Henry Whireman Fritzinger (about 1828–1881), a former sea captain

Davis, Whitman's housekeeper, who had also taken care of the sea captain and who inherited part of his

also f'm Rhys —have had a good currying bout—I sometimes fancy I get the vitalest ones I ever had f'm my

visitors—no book sales—suppose you got a bundle of circulars just sent—have just rec'd the news of my

and his brother Harry were the sons of Henry Whireman Fritzinger (about 1828–1881), a former sea captain

Davis, Whitman's housekeeper, who had also taken care of the sea captain and who inherited part of his

—Am sitting here alone as usual in my den—all right I guess — Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to Richard Maurice

Robert Browning (1812–1889), known for his dramatic monologues, including "Porphyria's Lover" and "My

Sometimes as I read it I feel as if my whole previous life were rolling en masse through me, and as if

bad even foul move—& himself a bad & foul move—that's the deep final verdict of America's soul—had my

chair last evn'g & look'd at the full moon & clouds & brightness a long time— Am sitting here alone in my

den—one bunch of flowers on the table at my left & another on the right—& Warren my nurse downstairs

and his brother Harry were the sons of Henry Whireman Fritzinger (about 1828–1881), a former sea captain

Davis, Whitman's housekeeper, who had also taken care of the sea captain and who inherited part of his

Camden Jan 31 '90 P M early Ab't the same as usual—a rare egg & Graham bread & prunes & coffee for my

the wolf away & the benefit of very light food-eating, wh' is decided for an old fellow— I enclose my

when printed—$10 each, one paid —So far have escaped the grip, (but I guess I have the am't of it in my

Philips and two photographers visited the poet on January 29 and "'took me' in my room—(bo't two big

Camden noon Feb: 5 '90 A rare egg & Graham br'd for my breakfast—Y'r good letter rec'd —the sun is out

eye bother, or liability—& there probably is something in that—I have mark'd defection & weakness in my

"A Death-Bouquet" became the last section of Good-Bye My Fancy, which was later reprinted in Complete

business (whatever it is) uncomfortable enough—(I have not probably the grip but I suppose I must pay my

Y'rs rec'd—then Matilda Gurd is dead —I remember her well & most favorably—my sympathies & condolences

you—Mrs: Davis has gone off for a couple of days (more or less) to see an old relative & friend a sea-captain

very ill but better now—an addition also to his family, baby boy —Alys Smith here yesterday—have had my

vulgar excitement here is the LeConey murder trial—an unusual muddle & paradox — Finish this up in my

Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to

and his brother Harry were the sons of Henry Whireman Fritzinger (about 1828–1881), a former sea captain

Davis, Whitman's housekeeper, who had also taken care of the sea captain and who inherited part of his

Camden Feb: 28 '90 4PM Dark wet & warm (almost) to-day—stay in to-day—yesterday out nearly two hours in my

coffin, as I took a notion to, & was acquainted with him—Keep up the massages—am sitting here alone in my

den—lots of fog here lately—My supper is coming— March 1 early p m —weather "same subject continued"

just drink'd a mug of milk punch—dull & heavy enough here—read the papers, & read again— 1½ Have had my

A Death-Bouquet " in the Press to-day —I will send you—the big papers here in America wont publish my

it is printed in Europe— Feb 3 —P M—Still going on same—an artist been here an hour & more sketching my

"A Death-Bouquet" became the last section of Good-Bye My Fancy, which was later reprinted in Complete

with the line "Welcome, Brazilian brother—thy ample place is ready," eventually appeared in Goodbye My

Jacques Reich (1852–1923) sent "proofs of my drawings" on February 12, 1890.

under the bad influence of the grip —A London Eng: pub'r (I suppose pub'r) has sent to McKay asking my

"Ingersoll's Speech" of June 2, 1890, was written by Whitman himself and was reprinted in Good-Bye My

to-day—have just written a little poemet "Sail out for good for aye O mystic yacht of me" for outset of my

Whitman is referring to the group of thirty-one poems taken from the book Good-Bye My Fancy (1891) that

For more information on Good-Bye My Fancy, as a book and an annex, see Donald Barlow Stauffer, "Good-Bye

my Fancy (Second Annex) (1891)," Walt Whitman: An Encyclopedia, ed.

lessons & practical example in massaging—they are using him very well—had strawberries & Graham bread for my

and his brother Harry were the sons of Henry Whireman Fritzinger (about 1828–1881), a former sea captain

Davis, Whitman's housekeeper, who had also taken care of the sea captain and who inherited part of his

I could convey no idea to you of how it affects my soul.

I got it, looked into it with wonder, and felt that here was something that touched on depths of my humanity

Camden noon Jan: 7 '90 Close to my den the last two or three days—pretty dull every thing—alone nearly

chair (but doubtful to-day—pretty sharp cold)—have quite rousing oak fire, & great wolf skin fur on my

Logan —a day or two before the "Spectator" f'm thy father —(so I am not neglected or forgotten)—Give my

well—Logan writes—am sitting here dully enough—stupid—no exhilaration—no massage or wheel-chair to day—my

Sylvanus Baxter's Pension Proposition two years ago—Peremptorily declined by me—but for all that & against my

and his brother Harry were the sons of Henry Whireman Fritzinger (about 1828–1881), a former sea captain

Davis, Whitman's housekeeper, who had also taken care of the sea captain and who inherited part of his

prostration at every hand all around me)—had a good little letter f'm Ed Wilkins —buckwheat cakes & honey for my

Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to

6 '90 Still down sick—it holds on day & night—(well have they call'd it the grip )—I am sitting in my

and his brother Harry were the sons of Henry Whireman Fritzinger (about 1828–1881), a former sea captain

Davis, Whitman's housekeeper, who had also taken care of the sea captain and who inherited part of his

time, ab't the 12th or 13th)—They are thinking of a sort of dinner in Phila May 31 in compliment of my

beginning on my 72d year, but we will see.

mind-clouding was temporary—(the worst of course is the eligibility of returning & worse)—¼ to 2—I have had my

Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to

the woods & badly but the breathing machinery working easier to-day wh' is a good point gain'd—Pass my

This correspondence card apparently accompanied a transcription of "O Captain! My Captain!

I sit here tiding it all over—am just taking my supper—a bit of toast bread & rasperry jam & small cup

On April 27, 1890, Whitman sent Furness a copy of "O Captain! My Captain!"