By, walt Whitman, i celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
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.
(The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place, The bright suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in their place, The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.) 17 These are really the thoughts.
52 The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.I believe in the flesh and the appetites, Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a miracle.Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!If I worship one thing more than another it shall be the spread of my own body, or any gratis online poker vinna riktiga pengar bonus part of it, Translucent mould of me it shall be you!Immense have been the preparations for me, Faithful and friendly the arms that have help'd.From the rocks of the river, swinging and chirping over my head, Calling my name from flower-beds, vines, tangled underbrush, Lighting on every moment of my life, Bussing my body with soft balsamic busses, Noiselessly passing handfuls out of their hearts and giving them.I take part, I see and hear the whole, The cries, curses, roar, the plaudits for well-aim'd shots, The ambulanza slowly passing trailing its red drip, Workmen searching after damages, making indispensable repairs, The fall of grenades through the rent roof, the fan-shaped explosion, The.Hefts of the moving world at innocent gambols silently rising freshly exuding, Scooting obliquely high and low.The disdain and calmness of martyrs, The mother of old, condemn'd for a witch, burnt with dry wood, her children gazing on, The hounded slave that flags in the race, leans by the fence, blowing, cover'd with sweat, The twinges that sting like needles his.His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him, His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around and return.How the flukes splash!
Whoever degrades another degrades me, And whatever is done or said returns at last.Dancing and laughing along the beach came the twenty-ninth bather, The rest did not see her, but she saw them and loved them.Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game.It shall be you!We closed with him, the yards entangled, the cannon touch'd, My captain lash'd fast with his own hands.