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All most welcome—My arm gets on well, am beginning to sleep pretty well again without any sedative Am
letter to Whitman's disciple and biographer Horace Traubel: "I had a fall last evening and dislocated my
Reprinted in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891).; Our transcription is based on a digital image of a microfilm
This expresses the mere fact, so far as I can read my inner self, though perhaps my own industry in life
, on the lines of author mainly, may not seem to corroborate my statement."
that he wants to use the photos for his "forthcoming little (2d) annex," which would become Good-Bye My
Jany 9. 1891 My dear Walt Wish you a Happy New Year, and take it in your new tomes and the "Old Gray
By the way in my file of the Sat.
I am living permanently here (that is to say in the old Phalanx near Redbank) and my brother is with
Camden P M Jan: 8 '91 Personal | My dear J M S If we are going into this thing my notion is to do it
My suggestion w'd be (if you feel to give space enough) to print after that "personal memoranda" of mine
signed by its author's name (now that O'Connor and Mrs: Gilchrist are dead those three are perhaps my
yesterday morning to receive your kind post card of Dec br : 23 rd , & I thank you for it with all my
nerves, which is very slow to quit, & which, while it lasts, prevents me from doing any thing beyond my
And I trust that in good time, & by God's help, I shall be able to do so—perhaps all the better for my
Meanwhile, it is my proudest & dearest privilege to write to you, & to shew you something—(if nothing
better) of a love which is as that of a son, & of the gratitude & homage due to my greatest benefactor
Jan. 6. 1891 Dear Sir, I have just received your "Leaves of Grass &c." 1890—for which accept my thanks
criticism . . . after full retrospect of his works and life, the aforesaid 'odd-kind chiel' remains to my
I am totally paralyzed, f'm the old Secession wartime overstrain—only my brain volition & right arm power
New England Magazine in June (3:570–71), and a portrait of the poet along with a review of Good-bye My
O'C to publish —Cold & sunny to day here—I have buckwheat cakes for my breakfast & mutton & rice stew
Whitman's preface was also included in Good-Bye My Fancy (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1891), 51–53.
The preface was included in Good-Bye My Fancy (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1891), 51–53.
forward hopefully to many a good hour with you yet when the success of the meter shall have loosened my
hands and my feet from some of the restraints that are now upon them.
My arm gets on finely, am at office every day, eat & sleep fairly well Love to you R M Bucke hand to
letter to Whitman's disciple and biographer Horace Traubel: "I had a fall last evening and dislocated my
—have sent word to Dr B[ucke] —Matters going on much the same with me as of late—as I write sit in my
My friends Can you use this in the Critic ?
54 Manchester Road Bolton Lancashire, England January 3 rd 1891 My Dear Old Friend, I must thank you
should kindly think of me & write me such a tender & loving note, and I thank you from the bottom of my
The other day I received a letter from Mrs Harrison of Bideford to whom I sent a copy of my "Notes"—she
will probably write to you By the way it may amuse you to know that in consequence of the extent of my
bring this letter to an end by again expressing the hope that you are keeping better & sending you my
Whitman's book Good-Bye My Fancy (1891) was his last miscellany, and it included both poetry and short
Thirty-one poems from the book were later printed as "Good-Bye my Fancy" in Leaves of Grass (1891–1892
For more information see, Donald Barlow Stauffer, "'Good-Bye my Fancy' (Second Annex) (1891)," Walt Whitman
again but the wheeling is good and the weather clear and charming I am going out for a drive in an hour my
letter to Whitman's disciple and biographer Horace Traubel: "I had a fall last evening and dislocated my
enclosed —Houghton & Co. are to publish her book, in the way you will see—all well—no particular news—made my
porridge, a bit of cold turkey & cup of tea—am sitting here at present as usual—rec'd a good letter f'm my
my neice Jessie in Saint Louis (superior girl, sensible, intuitive, a little reticent, undemonstrative
foreign and domestic—Ab't noon as I send this off & sun looks fine out, but I suppose rather too cool for my
Whitman's preface was also included in Good-Bye My Fancy (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1891), 51–53.
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 in my 2d story room same— affectionate uncle Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to Jessie Louisa
Thirty-one poems from Whitman's book Good-Bye My Fancy (1891) were later printed as "Good-Bye my Fancy
For more information see Donald Barlow Stauffer, "'Good-Bye my Fancy' (Second Annex) (1891)," Walt Whitman
Houghton, Mifflin, 1892), for which Whitman wrote the Preface (which he later included in Good-Bye My
We mean Walt Whitman's "Good-bye my Fancy."
rhythmical prejudices, will hold its own with "Crossing the Bar," or the epilogue to "Asolando": Good-bye my
going away, I know not where, Or to what fortune, or whether I may ever see you again, So good-bye my
—now separation—Good-bye my Fancy.
my Fancy. C . Review of Good-bye My Fancy
152yal.00146xxx.00866Walt Whitman's Last—Good-Bye My Fancy1891prose1 leafhandwritten; A draft of Walt
Walt Whitman's Last—Good-Bye My Fancy
treatise on the theory behind Leaves of Grass, which includes a plug for Whitman's latest work, Good-Bye My
with countless cartridges of money coming up, and of endless change going down—to none of these were my
or forbidden; and, of all men in Philadelphia, he it was whom I most desired to see and to thank for my
In a strong round hand he inscribed my name in the volume we had discussed, gave me some precious pictures
It was reprinted in Good-Bye My Fancy in 1891, with the additional note: "General Sheridan was buried
The Pallid Wreath, which was published in the Critic 18 (10 January 1891) and reprinted in Good-Bye My
leaveshandwritten; Lightly revised printer's copy of For Queen Victoria's Birthday, which was published in Good-Bye My
, a poem first published in Good-Bye My Fancy in 1891. On, on the Same, ye Jocund Twain, Manuscript
leafhandwritten; Draft fragment of a note for the short poem An Ended Day, which was first published in Good-Bye My
OV 2Good-Bye My Fancy (1891), Manuscript draftloc.05458xxx.00459Good-Bye My Fancy1891poetryprintedhandwritten14
leaves; Manuscript and corrected print material that was included in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891).
Good-Bye My Fancy
body, Unfolded only out of the inimitable poems of woman can come the poems of man, (only thence have my
WHAT am I after all but a child, pleas'd with the sound of my own name?
Who Learns My Lesson Complete? WHO LEARNS MY LESSON COMPLETE? WHO learns my lesson complete?
as every one is im- mortal immortal ; I know it is wonderful, but my eyesight is equally wonderful, and
how I was conceived in my mother's womb is equally wonderful, And pass'd from a babe in the creeping
And that my soul embraces you this hour, and we affect each other without ever seeing each other, and
ON my Northwest coast in the midst of the night a fishermen's group stands watching, Out on the lake
Dim smitten star, Orb not of France alone, pale symbol of my soul, its dearest hopes, The struggle and
IN a far-away northern county in the placid pastoral region, Lives my farmer friend, the theme of my
appears to them, (books, politics, poems, depart—all else departs,) I confess I envy only his fascination—my
WANDERING at morn, Emerging from the night from gloomy thoughts, thee in my thoughts, Yearning for thee
Thee coil'd in evil times my country, with craft and black dismay, with every meanness, treason thrust
its young, The singing thrush whose tones of joy and faith ecstatic, Fail not to certify and cheer my
If vermin so transposed, so used and bless'd may be, Then may I trust in you, your fortunes, days, my
My Picture-Gallery. MY PICTURE-GALLERY.
bugle-calls, Trooping tumultuous, filling the midnight late, bending me power- less powerless , Entering my
2 Come forward O my soul, and let the rest retire, Listen, lose not, it is toward thee they tend, Parting
the midnight, entering my slumber-chamber, For thee they sing and dance O soul.
cannot tell itself.) 3 Ah from a little child, Thou knowest soul how to me all sounds became music, My
6 Then I woke softly, And pausing, questioning awhile the music of my dream, And questioning all those
PASSAGE TO INDIA. 1 SINGING my days, Singing the great achievements of the present, Singing the strong
Struggles of many a captain, tales of many a sailor dead, Over my mood stealing and spreading they come
of you strong mountains of my land! Of you O prairies! of you gray rocks! O morning red! O clouds!
the blood burns in my veins! Away O soul! hoist instantly the anchor!
O my brave soul! O farther farther sail! O daring joy, but safe! are they not all the seas of God?
Thou knowest my years entire, my life, My long and crowded life of active work, not adoration merely;
Thou knowest the prayers and vigils of my youth, Thou knowest my manhood's solemn and visionary meditations
All my emprises have been fill'd with Thee, My speculations, plans, begun and carried on in thoughts
, I yield my ships to Thee.
My hands, my limbs grow nerveless, My brain feels rack'd, bewilder'd, Let the old timbers part, I will
THE SLEEPERS. 1 I WANDER all night in my vision, Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping
I stand in the dark with drooping eyes by the worst-suffering and the most restless, I pass my hands
He whom I call answers me and takes the place of my lover, He rises with me silently from the bed.
. 2 I descend my western course, my sinews are flaccid, Perfume and youth course through me and I am
darn my grandson's stockings.
dear brothers' and sisters' sake, for the soul's sake, Wending my way through the homes of men, rich
words, mine only, Young and strong I pass knowing well I am destin'd myself to an early death; But my
charity has no death—my wisdom dies not, neither early nor late, And my sweet love bequeath'd here and
of reminiscences, brooding, with many wiles, (Though it was thought I was baffled and dispel'd, and my
side, warlike, equal with any, real as any, Nor time nor change shall ever change me or my words. 4
in the room where I eat or sleep, I should be satisfied, And if the corpse of any one I love, or if my
YET, yet, ye downcast hours, I know ye also, Weights of lead, how ye clog and cling at my ankles, Earth
Despairing cries float ceaselessly toward me, The call of my nearest lover, putting forth, alarm'd, uncertain
, The sea I am quickly to sail, come tell me, Come tell me where I am speeding, tell me my destination
And you O my soul where you stand, Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly
need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold, Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my
Softly I lay my right hand upon you, you just feel it, I do not argue, I bend my head close and half
arrive, or pass'd on farther than those of the earth, I henceforth no more ignore them than I ignore my
AS I sit with others at a great feast, suddenly while the music is playing, To my mind, (whence it comes
thee, And royal feudal Europe sails with thee. 5 Beautiful world of new superber birth that rises to my
(Lo, where arise three peerless stars, To be thy natal stars my country, Ensemble, Evolution, Freedom
my special word to thee. Hear me illustrious!
wood edge, thy touching-distant beams enough, Or man matured, or young or old, as now to thee I launch my
launch thy subtle dazzle and thy strength for these, Prepare the later afternoon of me myself—prepare my
lengthen- ing lengthening shadows, Prepare my starry nights.
This face owes to the sexton his dismalest fee, An unceasing death-bell tolls there. 3 Features of my
I saw the face of the most smear'd and slobbering idiot they had at the asylum, And I knew for my consolation
what they knew not, I knew of the agents that emptied and broke my brother, The same wait to clear the
near the garden pickets, Come here she blushingly cries, Come nigh to me limber-hipp'd man, Stand at my
upon you, Fill me with albescent honey, bend down to me, Rub to me with your chafing beard, rub to my