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(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.
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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.51 The past and present wilt-I have fill'd them, emptied them.I fly those flights of a fluid and swallowing soul, My course runs below the soundings of plummets.They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania.See ever so far, there is limitless space outside of that, Count ever so much, there is limitless time around that.Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore, Now I will you to be a bold swimmer, To jump off in the midst of the sea, rise again, nod to me, shout, and laughingly dash with your hair.One world is aware and by far the largest to me, and that is myself, And whether I come to my own to-day or in ten thousand or ten million years, I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness I can wait.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!20 Who goes there?Your facts are useful, and yet they are not my dwelling, I but enter by them to an area of my dwelling.27 To be in any form, what is that?
The clock indicates the moment-but what does eternity indicate?
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