Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on, To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes.
Come now I will not be tantalized, you conceive too much of articulation, Do you not know O speech how the buds beneath you are folded?
Gentlemen, to you the first honors always!
Behold, I do not give lectures or a little charity, When I give I give myself.52 The spotted hawk swoops by and spille spilleautomater gratis online classic accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.27 To be in any form, what is that?I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of democracy, By God!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?Copyright The DayPoems web site, t, is copyright by Timothy.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.No shutter'd room or school can commune with me, But roughs and little children better than they.I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.42 A call in the midst of the crowd, My own voice, orotund sweeping and final.What behaved well in the past or behaves well to-day is not such wonder, The wonder is always and always how there can be a mean man or an infidel.
(This day I am jetting the stuff of far more arrogant republics.) To any one dying, thither I speed and twist the knob of the door.
We closed with him, the yards entangled, the cannon touch'd, My captain lash'd fast with his own hands.
Something I cannot see puts upward libidinous prongs, Seas of bright juice suffuse heaven.
That I could forget the mockers and insults!
Do you see O my brothers and sisters?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.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.The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless, It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked, I am mad.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.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 and clear his decks.