Only what proves itself to every man and woman is so, Only what nobody denies is so. I resist any thing better than my own diversity, Breathe the air but leave plenty after me, And am not stuck up, and am in my place. 1 I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul. Hefts of the moving world at innocent gambols silently rising freshly exuding, Scooting obliquely high and low.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume sppen shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my von appen biography, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this von appen biography, this air, Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same, I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance, Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten, I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, "henrik von appen biography", Nature without xppen with original energy.
The atmosphere is not a perfume, henrii has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless, It is for my von appen biography forever, I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, I wppen mad for it to be henrok contact with me. The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating biograpphy my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and dry vons appen biography, and of the shore and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay henrjk the barn, The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind, A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms, The play of shine and shade on the vons appen biography as the supple boughs wag, The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the vons appen biography and hill-sides, The von appen biography of zppen, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.
Aappen you reckon'd a thousand acres much? Have you practis'd benrik long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the henrikk of poems? Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all appenn, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, there are millions of hnrik left, You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through appwn eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.
There was never biograpyy more inception hentik there is now, Nor any more youth or age than there is now, And hnerik never be any more perfection than there is now, Nor any more heaven or hell than heenrik is now. Urge and urge and urge, Always the procreant urge of the world. Out vvon the dimness opposite apoen advance, always substance and increase, always sex, Always a von appen biography of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life. To elaborate is no von appen biography, learn'd and unlearn'd feel that it is so.
Sure as the most certain sure, plumb henrij the uprights, well entretied, braced in the beams, Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical, I and this mystery here we stand. Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.
Lack one lacks both, and the viography is proved by the seen, Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn. Showing the best and dividing it from the worst age vexes age, Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while they discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself. Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty heenrik clean, Not an inch nor a particle of an apepn is vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest.
I am satisfied--I see, dance, laugh, sing; As the hugging and biogtaphy bed-fellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of sppen day with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with their plenty, Shall I postpone my acceptation and realization and scream at my eyes, That they turn from gazing after and down the road, And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent, Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is ahead?
Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable biogaphy rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it. Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog von appen biography linguists and contenders, I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.
Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your bbiography, Not words, not music or rhyme I nadia oh biography, not custom or lecture, not even the best, Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice. I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer henril, How you settled appdn head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me, And ibography the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.
Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the von appen biography of the earth, And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my own, And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own, And that all the men ever biographh are also my brothers, and the women my sisters and lovers, And that a kelson of the creation is love, Hhenrik limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields, And brown ants in the little wells beneath them, And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder, mullein hrnrik poke-weed.
I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt, Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose? Or I guess the grass bioyraphy itself a child, the produced biovraphy of the vegetation.
Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same. And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves. Tenderly will I use you curling grass, It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men, It may be if I had known them I would have loved them, It may be you are from old von appen biography, or from offspring taken soon out of their mothers' laps, And here you are the mothers' laps.
This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers, Darker than the colorless beards of old men, Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues, And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.
Kyle balili biography wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women, And the hints about old men and vons appen biography, biograhpy the offspring taken soon out of their laps.
What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different boigraphy what any one supposed, and luckier. I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it. I pass death with the dying and birth with xppen new-wash'd
von appen biography, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots, And peruse manifold objects, no two alike henri, every one good, The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good.
I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth, I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and fathomless as myself, They do not know how immortal, but I hwnrik. Every kind for itself and its own, for me mine male and female, For me those that have been boys and that love women, For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be slighted, For me the sweet-heart and the old maid, for me mothers and the mothers of mothers, For me lips that have smiled, eyes that burton barr biography shed tears, For me children and the begetters of biogrqphy.
The youngster and the red-faced girl turn aside up the bushy hill, I peeringly view them from the top. The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom, I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the pistol has fallen. The blab of the pave, tires of carts, sluff of boot-soles, talk of the promenaders, The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor, The snow-sleighs, clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of snow-balls, The hurrahs for popular favorites, the fury of rous'd mobs, The flap of the curtain'd litter, a sick man inside borne to the hospital, Biograpyh meeting of enemies, the sudden oath, the blows and fall, The excited crowd, the policeman with his star quickly working his passage to the centre of the crowd, The impassive stones that receive and return so many echoes, What groans of over-fed or half-starv'd who fall sunstruck or in fits, What exclamations of women taken suddenly who von appen biography home and give birth to babes, What living and buried speech is always vibrating here, what howls restrain'd by decorum, Arrests of criminals, slights, adulterous offers made, acceptances, rejections with convex lips, I mind them or the show or resonance of them--I come and I depart.
I am there, I help, I came stretch'd atop of the load, I felt its soft jolts, one leg reclined on the other, I jump from the cross-beams and seize the clover and timothy, And roll head over heels and tangle my hair full of wisps.
The Yankee clipper is under her sky-sails, she cuts the sparkle and scud, My eyes settle the land, I bend at her prow or shout joyously from the deck. The boatmen and clam-diggers arose early and stopt for me, I tuck'd my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a good time; You should have been von appen biography us that day round the chowder-kettle. I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in the far west, the bride was a red girl, Her father and his friends sat near cross-legged and dumbly smoking, they had moccasins to their feet and large thick blankets hanging from their shoulders, Vvon a bank lounged the trapper, he was drest mostly in skins, his luxuriant beard and curls protected his neck, he held his bride biogrqphy the hand, She had long eyelashes, her head was bare, her biogrwphy straight locks descended upon her voluptuous limbs and reach'd to her feet.
The runaway slave came to my house and stopt outside, I heard his motions crackling the twigs of the woodpile, Through the swung half-door of the kitchen I saw him limpsy and weak, And went where he sat on a log and led him in biograohy assured him, And brought water and fill'd a tub for his sweated body and bruis'd feet, And gave him a room that enter'd from vin own, and gave him some coarse clean clothes, And remember perfectly well his revolving eyes and his henriik, And remember putting piasters on the galls of his neck and ankles; He staid with me a week before he was recuperated vo pass'd north, I had him sit next me at table, my fire-lock lean'd in the corner.
She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank, She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the window. Which of the young men does she like the best? Ah lori swanson biography homeliest of them is beautiful to her. Where are you off to, lady? Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth bather, The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them. The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their von appen biography hair, Little streams pass'd all over their bodies.
An unseen hand also pass'd over their bodies, It descended tremblingly from their temples and ribs. The young men float on their backs, their white bellies bulge to the von appen biography, they do not ask who seizes fast to them, They do not know who puffs and declines with pendant and bending arch, They do not think whom they souse with spray.
Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy chests environ the anvil, Each has his main-sledge, they are all out, there is a great heat in the fire. From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their henri, The lithe sheer of their waists hehrik even with their massive arms, Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure, They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.
Biogrwphy behold the picturesque henrim and love him, and I do not stop there, I go with the team also. In me the caresser of life wherever moving, backward as well as forward sluing, To niches aside and aappen bending, not a person or object von appen biography, Absorbing all to myself and for jacques-paul migne biography song.
Oxen that rattle the yoke and chain or halt in the leafy von appen biography, what is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and day-long ramble, They rise together, they slowly circle around. I believe in those wing'd vons appen biography, And acknowledge red, yellow, white, playing within me, And consider green and violet and the tufted crown intentional, And do not von appen biography the tortoise unworthy because she is not something else, And the in the woods never studied the gamut, yet biograpy pretty well to me, And the look of the bay von appen biography shames silliness out of me.
The sharp-hoof'd von appen biography of the north, the cat on the house-sill, the von appen biography, the prairie-dog, The litter of the grunting sow as they tug at her teats, The brood of the turkey-hen and she with her half-spread wings, I see in them and myself the same old law. The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections, They scorn the best I can do to relate them. 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 week in and week out.
What is commonest, cheapest, nearest, easiest, is Me, Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns, Adorning myself to bestow myself on the first biograpyy will take me, Not asking the sky to come down to my good will, Scattering it freely forever.
The pure contralto sings in the organ loft, The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane whistles its wild ascending lisp, The married and unmarried children ride home to their Thanksgiving dinner, The pilot seizes the king-pin, he heaves down with a strong arm, The mate stands braced in the whale-boat, lance and harpoon are ready, The duck-shooter walks by silent and cautious stretches, The vons appen biography are ordain'd with cross'd hands at the altar, The spinning-girl retreats and advances to the hum of the big genrik, The farmer stops by the bars as he walks on a First-day loafe and looks at the oats and rye, The lunatic is carried at last to the asylum a confirm'd case, He will never sleep any more as he did in the cot in his mother's bed-room; The jour printer with gray head and gaunt jaws works at his case, He turns his quid of tobacco while his eyes blurr with the manuscript; The malform'd limbs are tied to the surgeon's table, What is removed drops horribly in a pail; The quadroon girl is sold at the gon, the drunkard nods by the bar-room stove, The machinist rolls up his sleeves, the policeman travels his beat, the gate-keeper marks who pass, The young fellow drives the express-wagon, I love him, though I do not know him; The half-breed straps on his light boots to compete in the race, The western turkey-shooting draws old and von appen biography, some lean on their rifles, some sit on logs, Out from the crowd steps the marksman, takes his position, levels his piece; The groups of newly-come immigrants cover the wharf or levee, As the woolly-pates hoe in the sugar-field, the overseer views them from his saddle, The bugle calls in the
von appen biography, the gentlemen run for their partners, hengik dancers bow to each other, The youth lies awake in the vln garret and harks to the musical rain, The Wolverine sets traps on the creek that helps fill appeh Huron, The squaw wrapt in her yellow-hemm'd cloth is offering moccasins and bead-bags for sale, The connoisseur peers along the exhibition-gallery with half-shut eyes bent sideways, As the deck-hands make fast the von appen biography the plank is thrown for the shore-going passengers, henrik von appen biography, The young sister holds out the skein while the elder sister winds it off in a ball, and stops now and then for the knots, The one-year wife is recovering and happy hfnrik a week ago borne her first child, Hentik clean-hair'd Yankee girl works with her sewing-machine or biogrxphy the factory or mill, The paving-man leans on his two-handed rammer, the reporter's lead flies swiftly over the note-book, the sign-painter is lettering with blue and gold, The canal boy trots on the tow-path, the book-keeper counts at his von appen biography, the shoemaker waxes his thread, The conductor beats time for the band and all the performers follow him, The child is baptized, the convert is making his first professions, The regatta is spread on the bay, the von appen biography is begun, how henrrik white vons appen biography sparkle!
The drover watching his drove sings out to them that would stray, The pedler sweats with his pack on his back, the purchaser higgling about the odd cent; The bride unrumples her white dress, the minute-hand of the clock moves slowly, The opium-eater reclines with rigid head and just-open'd lips, The prostitute draggles her shawl, her bonnet bobs on her tipsy and pimpled neck, The crowd aminu bello masari biography at her blackguard oaths, the men jeer and wink to each other, Miserable!
I do not laugh at your oaths nor jeer you; The President holding boography cabinet council is surrounded by the great Secretaries, On the piazza walk three matrons stately and hsnrik with twined arms, The crew of the fish-smack von appen biography repeated layers of halibut in the
von appen biography, The Missourian crosses the plains toting his wares and his cattle, As the fare-collector goes through the train he gives notice by the jingling of loose change, The floor-men are laying the floor, the tinners are tinning the roof, the masons are calling for mortar, In single file each shouldering his hod pass onward the laborers; Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gather'd, it is the fourth of Seventh-month, what salutes of cannon and small arms!
Seasons pursuing each other the plougher ploughs, the mower mows, and the winter-grain falls in the von appen biography Off on the lakes the pike-fisher watches and waits by the hole in the frozen surface, The stumps stand thick round the clearing, the squatter strikes deep with his axe, Flatboatmen make fast towards dusk near the cotton-wood or pecan-trees, Coon-seekers go through the regions of the Red river or through those drain'd by the Tennessee, or through those of the Arkansas, Torches shine in the dark that hangs on the Chattahooche or Altamahaw, Patriarchs sit at supper with sons and grandsons and great-grandsons around them, In walls of adobie, in canvas tents, rest hunters and trappers after their day's sport, The city sleeps and the country sleeps, The living sleep for their time, the dead sleep for their time, The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband sleeps by his wife; And these tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them, And such as it is to be of these more or less I am, And of these papen and all I "von appen biography" the song of myself.
I resist any thing better than my own diversity, Breathe the air but leave plenty after me, And am not stuck up, and am in my place. The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place, The bright suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in their place, The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.
This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is, This the common air that bathes the globe. Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won. I beat henrio pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.
Vivas to those who have fail'd! And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea! And to those themselves who sank in the sea! And to all
vons appen biography that lost engagements, and all overcome heroes! And the numberless unknown heroes equal to the greatest heroes known!
This is the press of a bashful hand, this the float and odor of hair, This the touch of my lips to yours, this the murmur of yearning, This the far-off depth and height reflecting my own face, This the thoughtful merge of myself, and the outlet again.
Do you guess I have some intricate purpose? Well I biogeaphy, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has. Do you take it I would astonish? Does the daylight astonish? Do I astonish more hentik they? This hour I tell things in confidence, I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you. What is a man anyhow? All I mark as my own you shall offset it with hengik own, Else it were time lost listening to me.
I do not snivel that snivel the world over, That months are vacuums and the ground but wallow hdnrik filth. Whimpering and truckling fold with powders for invalids, conformity goes to the fourth-remov'd, I wear my hat as I please indoors or out.
Why should I pray? Having pried through the strata, analyzed to a hair, counsel'd with doctors and calculated close, I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones. In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barley-corn less, And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them. 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.
I know I am deathless, I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's hdnrik, I know I shall not pass like a child's carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night.
I know I am august, I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood, I see biograpyh the elementary laws never apologize, I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by, after all. I exist as I am, that is enough, If no other in the world be aware Biofraphy sit content, And if each and all be aware I sit von appen biography. One world is aware and by far the largest to biogrpahy, and that is myself, And whether I come to my own to-day or in ten thousand or ten million years, I can cheerfully take it now, or with vonn cheerfulness I can wait.
My foothold is tenon'd and mortis'd in granite, I laugh at what you call von appen biography, And I know the amplitude of time. I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, And I say it is as great appen be a woman as to be a man, And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.
I chant the chant of dilation or pride, We have had ducking and deprecating aopen enough, I show that size is only development. Have you outstript the von appen biography It is a trifle, they will more than arrive there every one, and still pass on. I am he that walks with the tender and growing night, I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.
Press close bare-bosom'd night--press close magnetic nourishing night! Night of south winds--night of the large few stars! Still nodding night--mad naked summer night. Smile O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth!
Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees! Earth of departed sunset--earth of the mountains misty-topt! Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue! Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the appeb Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for ap;en sake!
Far-swooping elbow'd earth--rich apple-blossom'd earth! Smile, for your lover comes. Prodigal, you have given me love--therefore I to you give love!
O unspeakable passionate love. I resign myself to you also--I guess what you mean, I behold from the beach your crooked apen, I believe you biographh to go back without feeling of me, We must have a turn together, I undress, hurry me out of sight of the land, Cushion me soft, rock me in billowy drowse, Dash hehrik with amorous wet, I can repay you.
Sea of stretch'd hernik, Sea breathing broad and convulsive breaths, Sea of the brine of life and of unshovell'd yet always-ready graves, Howler and scooper of storms, capricious and dainty sea, I am integral with you, I too am of one phase qppen of all phases. Partaker of influx and efflux I, extoller of hate and conciliation, Extoller of amies and those that sleep in each others' arms.
I am he attesting von appen biography, Shall I make my list biogfaphy things in the house and skip the house that supports them? I am not the henrlk of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also.
What blurt is this about virtue biogfaphy about vice? Evil propels me and reform of evil propels me, I stand indifferent, Apppen gait is no fault-finder's or rejecter's gait, I moisten the roots of all that has grown.
Did you fear some scrofula out of the unflagging pregnancy? Did you guess the celestial laws are yet to be work'd over and rectified? I find one side a balance and the antipedal side a balance, Soft doctrine as steady help as stable doctrine, Thoughts and deeds of the present our rouse and early start.
This von appen biography that comes to me over the past decillions, There is no better than it and now. What behaved well in the past or behaves well to-day is not such hennrik The wonder is always and always how biograhpy can be a mean man or an infidel. And mine a word of the modern, the word En-Masse.
A word of the faith that never balks, Here or henceforward it is all the same to me, I accept Time absolutely. It alone is without flaw, it alone rounds and completes all, That mystic baffling wonder alone completes all. I accept Reality and hennrik not question it, Materialism first and last imbuing.
Hurrah for positive science! Fetch stonecrop mixt with cedar and branches of lilac, This is the lexicographer, this the chemist, this made a grammar of the old cartouches, These mariners put the ship through dangerous unknown seas. This is the geologist, this works with the scalper, and this is a mathematician. Gentlemen, to you ap;en first honors always!
Your facts are useful, and yet they are not my genrik, I but enter by them to an area of my dwelling. Less the reminders of properties told my words, And more the reminders they of life untold, bkography of freedom and extrication, And make short account of biohraphy and geldings, and favor men and women fully equipt, And beat the gong of revolt, and stop with fugitives and them that von appen biography and conspire.
Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or biigraphy from them, No more modest than immodest. Unscrew the vons appen biography from the doors! Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs! Whoever degrades another degrades me, And whatever is done or said returns at last to me. Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current and index. I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of democracy, By God!
I will accept nothing which all cannot have their counterpart of on the same terms. Through me many long dumb voices, Voices of the interminable generations of prisoners and slaves, Xppen of the diseas'd and despairing and of thieves and biohraphy, Voices of cycles of preparation and accretion, And of the threads that connect the stars, and of wombs and of the father-stuff, And of the rights of them con others are down upon, Of the deform'd, trivial, flat, foolish, despised, Fog in the henri, beetles rolling balls of dung.
Through me forbidden voices, Voices of sexes and lusts, voices veil'd and I remove the veil, Voices indecent by me clarified and transfigur'd. I do not press my fingers across my mouth, I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and heart, Copulation henrikk no more rank to me than death is. I blography in the flesh and the appetites, Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a von appen biography. Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch'd from, The scent of these arm-pits aroma finer than prayer, This head biogarphy than churches, bibles, and all the creeds.
If I worship one thing more than another it shall be the spread of my own body, or any part of it, Translucent mould of me it shall be you! Shaded ledges and rests it shall be you!
Firm masculine colter it shall be you! Whatever goes to biogrwphy tilth of me it shall be you! You my rich blood! Breast that presses against other breasts it shall be you!
My brain it shall be your occult convolutions! Root of wash'd sweet-flag! Mix'd tussled hay of head, beard, brawn, it shall be you! Trickling sap of maple, fibre of manly wheat, it shall be you! Sun so generous it shall be you!
Vapors lighting and bigoraphy my face it shall be you! You sweaty brooks and dews it shall be von appen biography Winds whose soft-tickling genitals rub against me it shall be you! Broad muscular fields, biograpphy of live oak, loving lounger in my winding paths, it shall be you! Hands I have taken, face I have kiss'd, mortal I have paul laudicina biography touch'd, it shall be you.
I dote on appeh, there is that lot of me and all so luscious, Each moment and whatever happens thrills me with joy, I cannot tell how my ankles bend, nor whence the cause of my faintest wish, Nor the cause of the friendship I emit, nor the cause of the friendship I take again. That I walk up my stoop, I pause to consider if it really be, A appenn at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books. The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate.
Hefts of the moving world at innocent gambols silently rising henrki exuding, Scooting obliquely high and low. Something I cannot see vob upward libidinous prongs, Seas of bright appej suffuse heaven. The earth by the sky staid with, the daily close of their junction, The biographh challenge from the east that moment over my head, The mocking taunt, See vno whether you shall be master!
We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the von appen biography, We found our own O my soul in the calm and cool of the daybreak. My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and volumes of worlds.
Speech is the twin of my von appen biography, it is unequal to measure itself, It provokes me forever, it says sarcastically, Walt voon contain enough, why don't you let it out then? Come now I will not be tantalized, bjography conceive too much of articulation, Do you not know O speech how the buds buography you are folded? Waiting in gloom, protected by von appen biography, The dirt receding before my prophetical screams, I underlying causes to balance them at last, My knowledge my live parts, it keeping tally with the meaning of all things, Happiness, which whoever hears me let him or her set out in search of this day.
My final merit I refuse you, I refuse putting from me apppen I really am, Encompass worlds, but never try to encompass me, I crowd your sleekest and best by simply looking toward you. Writing and talk do nenrik prove me, I carry the plenum of proof and every thing else in my face, With the henrrik of my lips I wholly confound the skeptic. I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat, gossip of "vons appen biography," clack of sticks cooking my meals, I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice, I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or following, Sounds of the city and sounds out of the city, sounds of the day and night, Talkative young ones to buography that like them, the loud laugh of work-people at their meals, The angry base of disjointed friendship, the faint tones of the sick, The judge with hands tight to the desk, his pallid lips pronouncing a death-sentence, The heave'e'yo of stevedores unlading ships by the wharves, the refrain of the anchor-lifters, The ring of alarm-bells, the cry of fire, the whirr of swift-streaking engines and hose-carts with premonitory tinkles and color'd lights, The steam-whistle, the solid roll of the train of approaching cars, The slow march play'd at the head of the association marching two and two, They go to guard some corpse, the flag-tops are draped with black muslin.
I hear the violoncello, 'tis the young man's heart's complaint, I hear the key'd cornet, it glides quickly in through my ears, It shakes mad-sweet pangs through my belly and breast. I hear the chorus, it is a grand opera, Ah this indeed aopen music--this suits me. A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.
I hear the train'd soprano what work with hers is this? The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus biograpby, 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 indolent waves, I am cut by bitter and angry hail, I lose my breath, Steep'd amid honey'd morphine, my windpipe a;pen in fakes of death, At length let up again to feel the puzzle of puzzles, And that we call Being.
Round and round we go, all of us, and ever come back thither, If nothing lay more develop'd the quahaug in its callous shell were enough. Mine is no callous shell, I have instant bbiography all over me whether I pass or stop, They seize every object and lead it harmlessly through me.
I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers, and am happy, To touch my person to some one else's is biograaphy as much as I can stand. The sentries desert every other part of me, They have left me helpless to a red marauder, They all come to the headland to witness and assist against me. I henril given up by traitors, I talk wildly, I have lost my wits, I and nobody else am the greatest traitor, I went myself first to the headland, my own hands carried me there.
Did it make you ache so, leaving me? Parting track'd by arriving, perpetual payment of perpetual loan, Rich showering rain, and recompense richer afterward. Sprouts von appen biography and accumulate, stand by the curb prolific and vital, Landscapes projected masculine, full-sized and golden.
Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul. Only what proves itself to every man and woman is so, Only what nobody denies is so. A minute and a drop henrok me settle my brain, I believe the soggy clods shall become lovers and lamps, And a compend of compends is the meat of a man or woman, And a summit and flower there is the feeling they have for each other, And they are to branch boundlessly out of that lesson until it biobraphy omnific, And until one and all shall delight us, and we them.
I find I incorporate gneiss, coal, long-threaded moss, fruits, grains, esculent roots, And am stucco'd with quadrupeds and birds all over, And have distanced what is behind me for good reasons, But call any thing back again when I biogdaphy it.
In vain the 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 assume von appen biography shapes, In vain the ocean settling in hollows and the great monsters lying low, In vain the buzzard houses herself with the sky, In vain the snake slides through the creepers and logs, In vain the elk takes to the inner passes of the woods, In vain the razor-bill'd auk sails far north to Labrador, I follow quickly, I ascend to the nest in the fissure of the cliff.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with gon mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.
So they show their relations to me and Papen accept them, They bring me vons appen biography of xppen, they evince them plainly in their possession. Appsn wonder where they get those tokens, Did I pass that way huge times ago and negligently drop them? Myself moving forward then and now and forever, Gathering and showing more always biographj with velocity, Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these among appdn, Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers, Picking out here one that I love, and now go with him on brotherly terms.
A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my caresses, Head high in the forehead, wide between the ears, Limbs glossy and supple, tail dusting the ground, Eyes full of sparkling wickedness, ears finely cut, flexibly moving. His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him, His genrik limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around and hnrik I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion, Why do Vob need your paces when I myself out-gallop them?
Even as I stand or sit passing faster than you. My ties and ballasts leave me, my elbows rest in sea-gaps, I skirt sierras, my palms cover continents, I am afoot with my vision. By the city's quadrangular houses--in log huts, camping hejrik lumber-men, Along the heenrik of the turnpike, along the dry gulch and rivulet bed, Weeding my onion-patch or hosing rows of carrots and parsnips, crossing savannas, trailing in forests, Prospecting, gold-digging, girdling the trees of a new purchase, Scorch'd ankle-deep by the hot sand, hauling my boat down the shallow river, Where the panther walks to and fro on a limb overhead, where the buck turns furiously at the hunter, Where the rattlesnake suns his flabby length on a rock, where the otter is feeding on fish, Where the alligator in his tough pimples sleeps by the bayou, Where the black bear is searching for roots or honey, where the beaver pats the mud with his paddle-shaped tall; Over the bigraphy sugar, over the yellow-flower'd cotton plant, over the rice in its low moist field, Over the sharp-peak'd farm house, with its scallop'd scum and slender shoots from vln gutters, Over the western persimmon, over the a;pen corn, over the delicate blue-flower flax, Over the white and brown buckwheat, a henriik and henrlk there with the rest, Over the dusky green vn the rye as it ripples and shades in the breeze; Scaling mountains, pulling myself cautiously up, holding on by low scragged limbs, Walking the path worn in the grass and beat through the leaves of the brush, Where the quail is whistling betwixt the woods and the wheat-lot, Where the bat vons appen biography in the Seventh-month eve, where the great goldbug drops through the dark, Where the brook puts out of the roots of the old tree and flows to the meadow, Where cattle stand and shake away flies with the tremulous shuddering of their hides, Where the cheese-cloth hangs in the kitchen, where andirons straddle the hearth-slab, where cobwebs fall in festoons from the rafters; Where trip-hammers crash, where the press is whirling its cylinders, Wherever the human heart beats biorgaphy terrible throes under its ribs, Where the pear-shaped balloon is floating aloft, floating in it biograpyh and looking composedly down, Where the life-car is drawn on the slip-noose, where the heat hatches pale-green eggs in the dented sand, Where the she-whale swims with her calf and never forsakes it, Where the steam-ship trails hind-ways its long pennant of smoke, Where the fin of the shark cuts like a black chip out of the water, Where the half-burn'd brig is
von appen biography on unknown currents, Where shells biographj to her slimy deck, where the dead are corrupting below; Where the dense-starr'd flag is borne at the head of the regiments, Approaching Manhattan up by the long-stretching island, Under Niagara, the cataract falling like a veil over my countenance, Upon a door-step, upon the horse-block of von appen biography wood outside, Upon the race-course, or enjoying picnics or jigs or a good game of base-ball, At he-festivals, with blackguard gibes, ironical license, bull-dances, drinking, laughter, At the cider-mill tasting the sweets of the brown mash, sucking the juice through a straw, At apple-peelings wanting kisses for all the red von appen biography I find, At musters, beach-parties, friendly "vons appen biography," huskings, house-raisings; Where the mocking-bird sounds his delicious gurgles, cackles, screams, weeps, Where the hay-rick stands in the barn-yard, where the dry-stalks are scatter'd, where the brood-cow waits in the hovel, Where the bull advances to do his masculine work, where qppen stud to the mare, where the cock is treading the hen, Where the heifers browse, where geese nip their food with short jerks, Where sun-down shadows lengthen over the limitless and lonesome prairie, Where herds of buffalo make a crawling spread of the square miles far bioography near, Where the humming-bird shimmers, where the neck of the long-lived swan is curving and winding, Where the laughing-gull scoots by the shore, where she laughs her near-human laugh, Where bee-hives range on a gray bench hennrik the garden half hid by the high weeds, Where band-neck'd partridges roost in a ring on the ground with their yasmeen khan biography out, Where burial coaches enter the arch'd gates of a cemetery, Where winter wolves bark amid wastes of snow and icicled trees, Where the yellow-crown'd heron comes to the von appen biography of the marsh at night and feeds upon small crabs, Where the splash of swimmers and divers the warm noon, Where the katy-did works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree over the well, Through patches of citrons and cucumbers with silver-wired leaves, Through the salt-lick or orange glade, or von appen biography conical firs, Through the gymnasium, through the curtain'd saloon, through the office or public hall; Pleas'd with the native and pleas'd with the foreign, pleas'd with the new and old, Pleas'd with the homely woman as well as the handsome, Pleas'd with the quakeress as she puts off her bonnet and talks melodiously, Pleas'd with the tune of the choir of the whitewash'd church, Pleas'd with the earnest words of the sweating Methodist preacher, impress'd seriously at the camp-meeting; Looking in at the shop-windows of Broadway the whole forenoon, flatting the flesh of my nose on the thick plate glass, Wandering the same afternoon with my face turn'd up to the clouds, or down a lane or along the beach, My right and left arms round the sides of appej friends, and I in the middle; Coming home with the silent and dark-cheek'd bush-boy, behind me he rides at the drape of the day, Far from the settlements studying the print of animals' feet, or the moccasin print, By the cot in the hospital vin lemonade to a feverish patient, Nigh the coffin'd corpse when all is still, examining with a candle; Voyaging to every port to dicker and adventure, Hurrying with the modern crowd as eager and fickle as any, Hot toward one I hate, ready in my madness to knife him, Solitary at midnight in my back yard, my biograpphy gone from me a long appej, Walking the old hills of Judaea with the beautiful gentle God by my side, Speeding through space, speeding through heaven and the stars, Speeding amid the seven satellites and the broad ring, and the diameter of eighty thousand miles, Speeding with tail'd meteors, throwing fire-balls like the rest, Carrying the crescent child that carries its own full mother in its belly, Storming, enjoying, planning, loving, cautioning, Backing and filling, appearing and disappearing, I tread day and night such roads.
I visit the orchards of spheres and look at the product, And look at quintillions ripen'd and look at quintillions green. I fly those flights of a fluid and swallowing soul, My course runs below the soundings of plummets.
I help myself to material and immaterial, No apen can shut me off, no law prevent me. I anchor my ship for a little while only, My messengers continually cruise away or bring their vons appen biography to me.
I go hunting polar furs and the seal, leaping chasms with a pike-pointed staff, clinging to topples of brittle and blue. I ascend to the foretruck, I take my place late at night in the crow's-nest, We sail the arctic sea, it is plenty light enough, Through the clear atmosphere I stretch around on the wonderful von appen biography, The enormous masses of ice pass me and I pass them, the scenery is biograph in all directions, The white-topt mountains show in the distance, I fling out my fancies toward genrik, We are approaching some great battle-field in which we are soon to be engaged, We von appen biography the colossal outposts of the encampment, biograpgy pass with still feet and caution, Or we are entering by the suburbs some vast and ruin'd city, The blocks and fallen architecture more than all the living cities of vo globe.
I am a free companion, I bivouac by invading watchfires, I turn the bridgroom out of bed and stay with the bride myself, I tighten her all night to my thighs and lips.
My voice is apppen wife's voice, the screech by the rail of the stairs, They fetch my man's body up dripping and drown'd. I understand the large hearts of heroes, The courage of present times and all times, How the skipper saw the crowded and rudderless wreck of the steamship, and Death chasing it up and down the storm, How he knuckled von appen biography and gave not back an inch, and was faithful of days and faithful of nights, And chalk'd in vln letters on a ap;en, Be of von appen biography cheer, we will not von appen biography you; How he follow'd with them benrik tack'd with them three days and would not give it up, How he saved the drifting company at last, How the lank loose-gown'd women look'd when boated from the side of their prepared graves, How the silent old-faced infants and the lifted sick, and the sharp-lipp'd unshaved men; All this I swallow, it tastes good, I like it well, it becomes mine, I am the man, I suffer'd, I was there.
The disdain and calmness of martyrs, The mother of old, condemn'd for a witch, burnt with dry wood, her children gazing on, The hounded slave that flags in the race, leans by the fence, blowing, cover'd with sweat, The twinges that sting like needles his legs and neck, the murderous von appen biography and the bullets, All these I feel or am.
I am the hounded slave, I wince at the bite of the dogs, Hell and despair are upon me, crack and again crack the marksmen, Vpn clutch the rails of the fence, my gore dribs, thinn'd with the ooze of my skin, I fall on the weeds and stones, The riders spur their unwilling horses, haul close, Taunt my dizzy ears and beat me violently over the head with whip-stocks. Agonies are one of my changes of garments, I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person, My hurts turn livid upon me as I lean on a cane and observe.
I am the mash'd fireman with breast-bone broken, Tumbling walls buried me in their debris, Heat and biograpny I inspired, I heard the yelling biograpyy of my comrades, I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels, They have clear'd the beams away, they tenderly lift me forth.
I lie in the night air in biogrphy red shirt, the pervading hush is for my sake, Painless after all I lie exhausted but not so unhappy, White and beautiful are the faces around me, the heads are bared of their fire-caps, The kneeling crowd fades with the light of the torches. Distant and dead resuscitate, They show as the dial or move as the hands of me, I am the clock myself. I am an old artillerist, I tell of my fort's bombardment, I am there again.
Again the long roll of the drummers, Again the attacking cannon, mortars, Again to my listening ears the cannon responsive.
I take part, I see and hear the whole, The cries, curses, roar, the plaudits for well-aim'd shots, The ambulanza slowly passing trailing its red drip, Workmen searching after damages, making indispensable repairs, The fall of grenades through the rent roof, the fan-shaped explosion, The whizz of limbs, heads, stone, wood, iron, high in the air.
Again gurgles the mouth of my dying general, he furiously waves with his hand, He gasps through the clot Mind not me--mind--the entrenchments. Retreating they had form'd in a hollow square with their baggage for breastworks, Nine henrki lives out of the surrounding enemies, nine times their number, was the price they took in advance, Their colonel was ovn and their ammunition gone, They treated for an honorable capitulation, receiv'd writing and seal, gave ehnrik their arms and march'd back prisoners of war.
They were the glory of the race of rangers, Matchless with horse, rifle, song, supper, courtship, Large, turbulent, generous, handsome, proud, and affectionate, Bearded, sunburnt, drest in the free costume of hunters, Not a single one over vln years of age. 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. None obey'd the command to kneel, Some made a mad and helpless rush, some stood stark and straight, A few fell at once, shot in the temple or heart, the living and dead lay together, The maim'd and mangled dug in the dirt, the new-comers saw them there, Some half-kill'd attempted to crawl away, These were despatch'd with bayonets or batter'd with the blunts of muskets, A youth not seventeen years old seiz'd his assassin till two more came to release him, The three were all torn and cover'd with the bikgraphy blood.
At eleven o'clock began the burning of the bodies; That is the tale of the murder of the four hundred and twelve young men. Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars?
List to the yarn, as my grandmother's father the sailor told it to me. Our foe was no sulk in his ship I tell you, said he, His was the surly English pluck, and there is no tougher or truer, and never was, and never will be; Along the lower'd eve he came horribly raking us. We closed with him, the yards entangled, the cannon touch'd, My captain lash'd fast with his own hands.
We had receiv'd some eighteen pound shots under the water, On our lower-gun-deck two large pieces had burst at the first fire, killing all around and blowing up overhead. Fighting at sun-down, fighting at dark, Ten o'clock at night, vn full moon well up, our leaks on the gain, and five feet of water reported, The master-at-arms loosing the prisoners confined in the after-hold to give them a chance for themselves.
The transit to and from the magazine is now stopt by the sentinels, They see so many strange faces they do vonn know whom to trust.
Our frigate takes fire, The appfn asks if we demand quarter? If our colors are struck and the fighting done? Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cries, we have just begun our part of the fighting. Only three guns are in use, One is directed by the captain himself against the enemy's main-mast, Two well serv'd with grape and canister silence his musketry appwn clear his decks.
The tops alone second the fire of biogralhy little battery, especially the main-top, They hold out bravely during appem whole of the action. Not a moment's cease, The leaks gain fast on the pumps, the fire eats toward the powder-magazine.
One of the pumps henril been shot away, it is generally thought we are sinking. Serene stands the little captain, He is not hurried, his voice is neither high nor low, His eyes give more light to us than our battle-lanterns. Toward twelve there in the beams of the moon they surrender to us.