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My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, With the normal probability distribution calculator twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and volumes of worlds.
I know I am deathless, I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass, I know I shall not pass like a child's carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night.
I know perfectly well my own egotism, Know my omnivorous lines and must not write any less, And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself.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.To his work without flinching the accoucheur comes, I see the elder-hand pressing receiving supporting, I recline by the sills of the exquisite flexible doors, And mark the outlet, and mark the relief and escape.Do you guess I have some intricate purpose?Come my children, Come my boys and girls, my women, household and intimates, Now the performer launches his nerve, he has pass'd his prelude on the reeds within.35 Would you hear of an old-time sea-fight?4 Trippers and askers surround me, People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation, The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new, My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues.Down-hearted doubters dull and excluded, Frivolous, sullen, moping, angry, affected, dishearten'd, atheistical, I know every one of you, I know the sea of torment, doubt, despair and unbelief.My foothold is tenon'd and mortis'd in granite, I laugh at what you call dissolution, And I know the amplitude of time.I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion, Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them?
(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.
Retreating they had form'd in a hollow square with their baggage for breastworks, Nine hundred lives out of the surrounding enemies, nine times their number, was the price they took in advance, Their colonel was wounded and their ammunition gone, They treated for an honorable.
Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current and index.
It is not chaos or death-it is form, union, plan-it is eternal life-it is Happiness.
I visit the orchards of spheres and look at the product, And look at quintillions ripen'd and look at quintillions green.My lovers suffocate me, Crowding my lips, thick in the pores of my skin, Jostling me through streets and public halls, coming naked to me at night, Crying by day, Ahoy!Which of the young men does she like the best?Firm masculine colter it shall be you!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!Through me many long dumb voices, Voices of the interminable generations of prisoners and slaves, Voices of the diseas'd and despairing and of thieves and dwarfs, Voices of cycles of preparation and accretion, And of the threads that connect the stars, and of wombs and.Smile, for your lover comes.This minute that comes to me over the past decillions, There is no better than it and now.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.Long live exact demonstration!
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