My feet strike an apex of the apices of the stairs, On every step bunches of ages, and larger bunches between the steps, All below duly travel'd, and still I mount and mount.
Somehow I have been stunn'd.
And what do you think has become spilleautomater købe brugt berlin of the women and children?
Root of wash'd sweet-flag!I am the poet of the woman the same as the man, And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man, And I say there is nothing greater than the mother of men.I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.Did you fear some scrofula out of the unflagging pregnancy?I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.
Or sailor from the sea?
Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current and index.
O welcome, ineffable grace of dying days!
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, 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.Each who passes is consider'd, each who stops is consider'd, not single one can it fall.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.My face rubs to the hunter's face when he lies down alone in his blanket, The driver thinking of me does not mind the jolt of his wagon, The young mother and old mother comprehend me, The girl and the wife rest the needle.Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?Askers embody themselves in me and I am embodied in them, I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.