Dark wet & warm (almost) to-day—stay in to-day—yesterday out nearly two hours in my wheel chair—have read & sent off the poemet proof to Century, is to be printed I believe in the May number—(Gilder ask'd for a sub-title to it)—it is (did I tell you?) an emotional & poetical mention of the immense unknown & unnamed soldiers north & south slain in the Secession War—Nothing new—Am ab't as well as usual—appetite, digestion, sleep, pulse &c. not notably bad—wh' I suppose is quite a good deal to brag of for me—
Much sickness, failing, dying, death itself here—A play'd out sailor, pneumonia following grippe, over 50, has had a funeral ceremony & burial to-day—I sent a little ivy woven anchor & white initials, to be laid on the corpse or 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" to-day—have rec'd a letter from John Burroughs wh' I enclose—(also send Stead's "Review" & a French and Italian pamphlet)—have just drink'd a mug of milk punch—dull & heavy enough here—read the papers, & read again—
1½ Have had my massage—Tom Harned is well & flourishing—told me he is ready (& favorable) to take the meter (for gas) & make a good big thing for you & Gurd & all—I take it wanted me to tell you—a heavy dark look out in the weather as I close—
God bless you all Walt Whitman