Poem by Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 31. Good-Bye My Fancy!

GOOD-BYE my Fancy!
Farewell dear mate, dear love!
I'm going away, I know not where,
Or to what fortune, or whether I may ever see you again,
So Good-bye my Fancy.

Now for my last—let me look back a moment;
The slower fainter ticking of the clock is in me,
Exit, nightfall, and soon the heart-thud stopping.

Long have we lived, joy'd, caress'd together;
Delightful!—now separation—Good-bye my Fancy.

Yet let me not be too hasty,
Long indeed have we lived, slept, filter'd, become really blended
into one;
Then if we die we die together, (yes, we'll remain one,)
If we go anywhere we'll go together to meet what happens,
May-be we'll be better off and blither, and learn something,
May-be it is yourself now really ushering me to the true songs,
(who knows?)
May-be it is you the mortal knob really undoing, turning—so
now finally,
Good-bye—and hail! my Fancy.

1. Leaves of Grass. 33. Songs of Parting. 1. As the Time Draws Nigh
2. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 28. Old Salt Kossabone
3. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 18. Sounds of the Winter
4. Leaves of Grass. 20. By the Roadside. 21. Visor'd
5. Leaves of Grass. 30. Whispers of Heavenly Death. 16. The Last Invocation

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