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I chant the chant of dilation or pride, We have had ducking and deprecating about enough, I show that size is only development.
Not words of routine this song of mine, But abruptly to question, to leap beyond yet nearer bring; This printed and bound book-but the printer and the printing-office boy?
And what is life?
Continue your annotations, continue your questionings.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 spil slots gratis online du or a slight cutting him worse than sharp.What blurt is this about virtue and about vice?Myself moving forward then and now and forever, Gathering and showing more always and with velocity, Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these among them, Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers, Picking out here one that I love, and now.One of that centripetal and centrifugal gang I turn and talk like man leaving charges before a journey.I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat, gossip of flames, 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.Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much?Gentlemen, to you the first honors always!Long I was hugg'd close-long and long.20 Who goes there?I help myself to material and immaterial, No guard can shut me off, no law prevent.
I do not know what it is any more than.
On women fit for conception I start bigger and nimbler babes.
23 Endless unfolding of words of ages!
Writing and talk do not prove me, I carry the plenum of proof and every thing else in my face, With the hush of my lips I wholly confound the skeptic.The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair, Little streams pass'd all over their bodies.So they show their relations to me and I accept them, They bring me tokens of myself, they evince them plainly in their possession.The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore.3 I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end, But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.The editor of DayPoems will gladly assist in putting interested parties in contact with the authors.1900 Comment on DayPoems?Who wishes to walk with me?Trickling sap of maple, fibre of manly wheat, it shall be you!Shaded ledges and rests it shall be you!