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Where day and night I wend thy surf-beat shore, Imaging to my sense thy varied strange suggestions, (

These snowy hairs, my feeble arm, my frozen feet, For them thy faith, thy rule I take, and grave it to

Far back, related on my mother's side, Old Salt Kossabone, I'll tell you how he died: (Had been a sailor

destination"—these the last words— when Jenny came, he sat there dead, Dutch Kossabone, Old Salt, related on my

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

refreshing night the walks of Paradise, I scent the grass, the moist air and the roses; Thy song expands my

and for my sensuous eyes, Bring the old pageants, show the feudal world.

the terrible tableaus. 7 O trumpeter, methinks I am myself the instrument thou playest, Thou melt'st my

heart, my brain—thou movest, drawest, chan- gest changest them at will; And now thy sullen notes send

soul, renew its languishing faith and hope, Rouse up my slow belief, give me some vision of the future

THEE for my recitative, Thee in the driving storm even as now, the snow, the winter-day declining, Thee

Roll through my chant with all thy lawless music, thy swinging lamps at night, Thy madly-whistled laughter

my South! O quick mettle, rich blood, impulse and love! good and evil! O all dear to me!

O dear to me my birth-things—all moving things and the trees where I was born—the grains, plants, rivers

, Dear to me my own slow sluggish rivers where they flow, distant, over flats of silvery sands or through

, the Tombigbee, the Santee, the Coosa and the Sabine, O pensive, far away wandering, I return with my

parrots in the woods, I see the papaw-tree and the blos- soming blossoming titi; Again, sailing in my

I WAS asking for something specific and perfect for my city, Whereupon lo!

there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane, unruly, musical, self-sufficient, I see that the word of my

my city!

Which vocalist never sung, nor orator nor actor ever utter'd, Invoking here and now I challenge for my

poverties, wincings, and sulky retreats, Ah you foes that in conflict have overcome me, (For what is my

You toil of painful and choked articulations, you meannesses, You shallow tongue-talks at tables, (my

Ah think not you finally triumph, my real self has yet to come forth, It shall yet march forth o'ermastering

Weave In, My Hardy Life. WEAVE IN, MY HARDY LIFE.

WEAVE in, weave in, my hardy life, Weave yet a soldier strong and full for great campaigns to come, Weave

have communed together, Mine too such wild arrays, for reasons of their own; Was't charged against my

Then my realities; What else is so real as mine?

States awhile, but I cannot tell whither or how long, Perhaps soon some day or night while I am singing my

LOVER divine and perfect Comrade, Waiting content, invisible yet, but certain, Be thou my God.

Ideal Man, Fair, able, beautiful, content, and loving, Complete in body and dilate in spirit, Be thou my

O Death, (for Life has served its turn,) Opener and usher to the heavenly mansion, Be thou my God.

All great ideas, the races' aspirations, All heroisms, deeds of rapt enthusiasts, Be ye my Gods.

and wondrous, Or some fair shape I viewing, worship, Or lustrous orb of sun or star by night, Be ye my

good as such-like, visible here or anywhere, stand provided for in a handful of space, which I extend my

arm and half enclose with my hand, That containing the start of each and all, the virtue, the germs

cheerfully accept, A little sustenance, a hut and garden, a little money, as I rendez- vous rendezvous with my

SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,) Skyward in air a sudden muffled sound, the dalliance

it harm'd me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—as if it were not indispensable to my

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.

THESE carols sung to cheer my passage through the world I see, For completion I dedicate to the Invisible

I remember I said before my leaves sprang at all, I would raise my voice jocund and strong with reference

I have press'd through in my own right, I have sung the body and the soul, war and peace have I sung,

I have offer'd my style to every one, I have journey'd with confi- dent confident step; While my pleasure

My songs cease, I abandon them, From behind the screen where I hid I advance personally solely to you

Remember my words, I may again return, I love you, I depart from materials, I am as one disembodied,

My city's fit and noble name resumed, Choice aboriginal name, with marvellous beauty, meaning, A rocky

A carol closing sixty-nine—a résumé—a repetition, My lines in joy and hope continuing on the same, Of

ye, O God, Life, Nature, Freedom, Poetry; Of you, my Land—your rivers, prairies, States—you, mottled

entire—Of north, south, east and west, your items all; Of me myself—the jocund heart yet beating in my

, old, poor and paralyzed—the strange inertia falling pall-like round me, The burning fires down in my

As I sit writing here, sick and grown old, Not my least burden is that dulness of the years, querilities

, Ungracious glooms, aches, lethargy, constipation, whimpering ennui, May filter in my daily songs.

AS at thy portals also death, Entering thy sovereign, dim, illimitable grounds, To memories of my mother

My Legacy. MY LEGACY.

But I, my life surveying, closing, With nothing to show to devise from its idle years, Nor houses nor

lands, nor tokens of gems or gold for my friends, Yet certain remembrances of the war for you, and after

you, And little souvenirs of camps and soldiers, with my love, I bind together and bequeath in this

earth, she cried, I charge you lose not my sons, lose not an atom, And you streams absorb them well,

, and you airs that swim above lightly impalpable, And all you essences of soil and growth, and you my

, And you trees down in your roots to bequeath to all future trees, My dead absorb or South or North—my

darlings, give my immortal heroes, Exhale me them centuries hence, breathe me their breath, let not

O my dead, an aroma sweet! Exhale them perennial sweet death, years, centuries hence.

AS they draw to a close, Of what underlies the precedent songs—of my aims in them, Of the seed I have

in them, Of joy, sweet joy, through many a year, in them, (For them, for them have I lived, in them my

(Pleas'd to my soul at death I cry,) Our life is closed, our life begins, The long, long anchorage we

soldiers South or North, As I muse retrospective murmuring a chant in thought, The war resumes, again to my

Now sound no note O trumpeters, Not at the head of my cavalry parading on spirited horses, With sabres

drawn and glistening, and carbines by their thighs, (ah my brave horsemen!

My handsome tan-faced horsemen! what life, what joy and pride, With all the perils were yours.)

Perfume therefore my chant, O love, immortal love, Give me to bathe the memories of all dead soldiers

, are, Of this Union welded in blood, of the solemn price paid, of the unnamed lost ever present in my

SPLENDOR of ended day floating and filling me, Hour prophetic, hour resuming the past, Inflating my throat

Open mouth of my soul uttering gladness, Eyes of my soul seeing perfection, Natural life of me faithfully

To prepare for sleep, for bed, to look on my rose-color'd flesh!

To be conscious of my body, so satisfied, so large! To be this incredible God I am!

How my thoughts play subtly at the spectacles around! How the clouds pass silently overhead!

Good-Bye My Fancy! GOOD-BYE MY FANCY! GOOD-BYE my Fancy! Farewell dear mate, dear love!

going away, I know not where, Or to what fortune, or whether I may ever see you again, So Good-bye my

Now for my last—let me look back a moment; The slower fainter ticking of the clock is in me, Exit, nightfall

—now separation—Good-bye my Fancy.

my Fancy.

These highly prized volumes of yours, and mine, became the latter by subscription, through my dear dead

"Democratic Vistas" since the books came, and am impelled to say to you that I rejoice greatly that my

Entering upon the New Year, let me then, my dear Walt Whitman, send you warm greeting from the Tropic

You know my motto: "Better than to stand to sit, better than to sit to lie, Better than to dream to sleep

Monthly rejected four poems that Whitman had submitted ("Old Chants," "Grand Is the Seen," "Death dogs my

Whitman's preface was also included in Good-Bye My Fancy (Philadelphia: David McKay, 1891), 51–53.

Dec. 29, 1890 My Dear Friend, Thinking of you and wondering how your Christmas was spent has tempted

Please accept my thanks for the $2 which you sent the children.

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

Han—also 2 dollars—nothing for me—I am unworthy, although I entreated but for 5 dollars, to help pay my

My family live happily in London, though it is always fog there when there is frost—I should think they

But I don't, so I packed up my books and came here.

Alys is going to stay on a month & learn Italian & then in February she is going to Sicily with my mother

All my American friends—young men who have gone in for politics—are working with the Democratic party

I wish I had got this letter off in time to wish you a happy Christmas—but you must accept my somewhat

Crisis" refers to the public scandal that occurred when the Irish soldier and Member of Parliament Captain

I send you a little box of confections by Adams Exp. with my love.

Critic of November 28, 1890 (p. 282) printed a paragraph about Whitman's forthcoming volume Good-Bye My

Your name will be a sufficient warrant for my intruding upon his Alpine solitude and 7 months winter—in