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8 The little one sleeps in its cradle, I lift the gauze and look a long time, and silently brush away flies with my hand.
And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea!Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders, I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to you nevertheless, And filter and fibre your blood.Will you prove already too late?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.It is not far, it is within reach, Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know, Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land.Nest of guarded duplicate eggs!I am given up by traitors, I talk wildly, I have lost my wits, I and nobody else am the greatest traitor, I went myself first to the headland, my own hands carried me there.They were the glory of the race of rangers, Matchless with horse, rifle, song, supper, courtship, Large, turbulent, generous, handsome, proud, and affectionate, Bearded, sunburnt, drest in the free costume of hunters, Not a single one over thirty years of age.31 I believe bästa usa online casino bonusar a leaf of grass is no less than the journey work of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a chef-d'oeuvre for the highest, And the.The boatmen and clam-diggers arose early and stopt for me, I tuck'd my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a good time; You should have been with us that day round the chowder-kettle.
I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of democracy, By God!
I heard what was said of the universe, Heard it and heard it of several thousand years; It is middling well as far as it goes-but is that all?Man or woman, I might tell how I like you, but cannot, And might tell what it is in me and what it is in you, but cannot, And might tell that pining I have, that pulse of my nights and days.Do I astonish more than they?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.I am enamour'd of growing out-doors, Of men that live among cattle or taste of the ocean or woods, Of the builders and steerers of ships and the wielders of axes and mauls, and the drivers of horses, I can eat and sleep with them.Have you reckon'd the earth much?