In vain the play slot online free euro speeding or shyness, In vain the plutonic rocks send their old heat against my approach, In vain the mastodon retreats beneath its own powder'd bones, In vain objects stand leagues off and star casino online 10 euro gratis assume manifold shapes, In vain the ocean settling in hollows.
I anchor my ship for a little while only, My messengers continually cruise away or bring their returns.
Wrench'd and sweaty-calm and cool then my body becomes, I sleep-I sleep long.Sermons, creeds, theology-but the fathomless human brain, And what is reason?I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.I hear the train'd soprano (what work with hers is this?) The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies, It wrenches such ardors from me I did not know I possess'd them, It sails me, I dab with bare feet, they are lick'd by the.16 I am of old and young, of the foolish as much as the wise, Regardless of others, ever regardful of others, Maternal as well as paternal, a child as well as a man, Stuff'd with the stuff that is coarse and stuff'd with the.The second First-day morning they were brought out in squads and massacred, it was beautiful early summer, The work commenced about five o'clock and was over by eight.I know I am solid and sound, To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow, All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and increase, always sex, Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life.Urge and urge and urge, Always the procreant urge of the world.Ever the hard unsunk ground, Ever the eaters and drinkers, ever the upward and downward sun, ever the air and the ceaseless tides, Ever myself and my neighbors, refreshing, wicked, real, Ever the old inexplicable query, ever that thorn'd thumb, that breath of itches and.I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat, Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best, Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.
I fly those flights of a fluid and swallowing soul, My course runs below the soundings of plummets.
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And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.
Through me many long dumb voices, Voices of the interminable generations of prisoners and slaves, Voices of the diseas'd and despairing and of thieves and dwarfs, Voices of cycles of preparation and accretion, And of the threads that connect the stars, and of wombs and.
I am enamour'd of growing out-doors, Of men that live among cattle or taste of the ocean or woods, Of the builders and steerers of ships and the wielders of axes and mauls, and the drivers of horses, I can eat and sleep with them.And as to you Life I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths, (No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before.) I hear you whispering there O stars of heaven, O suns-O grass of graves-O perpetual transfers and promotions, If you.8 The little one sleeps in its cradle, I lift the gauze and look a long time, and silently brush away flies with my hand.A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.Becoming already a creator, Putting myself here and now to the ambush'd womb of the shadows.I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers, and am happy, To touch my person to some one else's is about as much as I can stand.The boy I love, the same becomes a man not through derived power, but in his own right, Wicked rather than virtuous out of conformity or fear, Fond of his sweetheart, relishing well his steak, Unrequited love or a slight cutting him worse than sharp.My voice is the wife's voice, the screech by the rail of the stairs, They fetch my man's body up dripping and drown'd.Now I see it is true, what I guess'd at, What I guess'd when I loaf'd on the grass, What I guess'd while I lay alone in my bed, And again as I walk'd the beach under the paling stars of the morning.