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The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections, They scorn the best I can do to relate them.
Smile, for your lover comes.
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.Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge that pass all the argument 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.This minute that comes to me over the past decillions, There is no better than it and now.Come now spela pengar mall gratis brittiska pund I will not be tantalized, you conceive too much of articulation, Do you not know O speech how the buds beneath you are folded?I know I am august, I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood, I see that the elementary laws never apologize, (I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by, after all.) I exist.Som din startsida, alla kan vinna pengar på spelautomater online.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 the mania.Do you guess I have some intricate purpose?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.The black ship mail'd with iron, her mighty guns in her turrets-but the pluck of the captain and engineers?Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!30 All truths wait in all things, They neither hasten their own delivery nor resist it, They do not need the obstetric forceps of the surgeon, The insignificant is as big to me as any, (What is less or more than a touch?) Logic and.From the rocks of the river, swinging and chirping over my head, Calling my name from flower-beds, vines, tangled underbrush, Lighting on every moment of my life, Bussing my body with soft balsamic busses, Noiselessly passing handfuls out of their hearts and giving them.What are you doing?24 Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men online spel missbruk korea and women or apart from them, No more modest than immodest.If you tire, give me both burdens, and rest the chuff of your hand on my hip, And in due time you shall repay the same service to me, For after we start we never lie by again.
I do not laugh at your oaths nor jeer you The President holding a cabinet council is surrounded by the great Secretaries, On the piazza walk three matrons stately and friendly with twined arms, The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut.
I believe in the flesh and the appetites, Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a miracle.




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.That I walk up my stoop, I pause to consider if it really be, A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.Every condition promulges not only itself, it promulges what grows after and out of itself, And the dark hush promulges as much as any.6 A child said What is the grass?How they contort rapid as lightning, with spasms and spouts of blood!50 There is that in me-I do not know what it is-but I know it is.Do you see O my brothers and sisters?
I dilate you with tremendous breath, I buoy you up, Every room of the house do I fill with an arm'd force, Lovers of me, bafflers of graves.
The sky up there-yet here or next door, or across the way?