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Walt Whitman · Leaves of Grass

Poem 354 of 382 · Sands at Seventy

Good-Bye My Fancy

— ✻ —

Good-bye my fancy--(I had a word to say, But ’tis not quite the time--The best of any man’s word or say, Is when its proper place arrives--and for its meaning, I keep mine till the last.)

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