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A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.
That I datingsite nederland could forget the trickling tears and the blows of the bludgeons and hammers!
The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair, Little streams pass'd all over their bodies.
The soldier camp'd or upon the march is mine, On the night ere the pending battle many seek me, and I do not fail them, On that solemn night (it may be their last) those that know me seek.
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.This minute that comes to me over the past decillions, There is no better than it and now.Why should I venerate and be ceremonious?6 A child said What is the grass?Evil propels me and reform of evil propels me, I stand indifferent, My gait is no fault-finder's or rejecter's gait, I moisten the roots of all that has grown.24 Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them, No more modest than immodest.This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look'd at the crowded heaven, And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs, and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we be fill'd and satisfied then?48 I have said that the soul is not more than the body, And I have said that the body is not more than the soul, And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is, And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy.21 I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul, The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me, The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into new.From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements, The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive arms, Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure, They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.Long live exact demonstration!
Each who passes is consider'd, each who stops is consider'd, not single one can it fall.
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one place search another, I stop somewhere waiting for you.
Whimpering and truckling fold with powders for invalids, conformity goes to the fourth-remov'd, I wear my hat as I please indoors or out.I hear the train'd soprano (what work with hers is this?) The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies, It wrenches such ardors from me I did not know I possess'd them, It sails me, I dab with bare feet, they are lick'd by the.27 To be in any form, what is that?The blab of the pave, tires of carts, sluff of boot-soles, talk of the promenaders, The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor, The snow-sleighs, clinking, shouted jokes, pelts of snow-balls, The hurrahs for.Showing the best and dividing it from the worst age vexes age, Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while they discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself.Who has done his day's work?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.