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49 And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to try to alarm.Are you the President?You there, impotent, loose in the knees, Open your scarf'd chops slot online gratis att spela 3d spel till I blow grit within you, Spread your palms and lift the flaps of your pockets, I am not to be denied, I compel, I have stores plenty and to spare, And any thing.Be at peace bloody flukes of doubters and sullen mopers, I take my place among you as much as among any, The past is the push of you, me, all, precisely the same, And what is yet untried and afterward is for you, me, all.I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots, And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good, The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good.Did you guess the celestial laws are yet to be work'd over and rectified?Continue your annotations, continue your questionings.2, houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes, I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it, The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let.I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.Wrench'd and sweaty-calm and cool then my body becomes, I sleep-I sleep long.
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.
Night of south winds-night of the large few stars!
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.I know I am solid and sound, To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow, All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.The sky up there-yet here or next door, or across the way?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.My brain it shall be your occult convolutions!Old age superbly rising!A few quadrillions of eras, a few octillions of cubic leagues, do not hazard the span or make it impatient, They are but parts, any thing is but a part.(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.