I am satisfied-I see, dance, laugh, sing; As the hugging and loving bed-fellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with their plenty, Shall.
Hands I have taken, face I have kiss'd, mortal I have ever touch'd, it shall be you.
Did it make you ache so, leaving me?28 Is this then a touch?Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!Give me a little time beyond my cuff'd head, slumbers, dreams, gaping, I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.I find online casino deutschland bonus ohne einzahlung one side a balance and the antipedal side a balance, Soft doctrine as steady help as stable doctrine, Thoughts and deeds of the present our rouse and early start.Who has done his day's work?Not a moment's cease, The leaks gain fast on the pumps, the fire eats toward the powder-magazine.Something it swings on more than the earth I swing on, To it the creation is the friend whose embracing awakes.Do you guess I have some intricate purpose?(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.I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then, In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass, I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one.
Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!
I teach straying from me, yet who can stray from me?
Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and increase, always sex, Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life.O unspeakable passionate love.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.Speech is the twin of my vision, it is unequal to measure itself, It provokes me forever, it says sarcastically, Walt you contain enough, why don't you let it out then?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.Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much?Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch'd from, The scent of these arm-pits aroma finer than prayer, This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds.Now I see it is true, what I guess'd at, What I guess'd when I loaf'd on the grass, What I guess'd while I lay alone in my bed, And again as I walk'd the beach under the paling stars of the morning.