Your facts are useful, and yet they are not my dwelling, I but enter by them to han er på udkig efter en ung kvinde an area of my dwelling.
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!
Come my children, Come my boys and girls, my women, household and intimates, Now the performer launches his nerve, he has pass'd his prelude on the reeds within.I understand the large hearts of heroes, The courage of present times and all times, How the skipper saw the crowded and rudderless wreck of the steamship, and Death chasing it up and down the storm, How he knuckled tight and gave not back.Even as I stand or sit passing faster than you.I do not snivel that snivel the world over, That months are vacuums and the ground but wallow and filth.Well I have, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has.Whoever degrades another degrades me, And whatever is done or said returns at last.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.
This is the press of a bashful hand, this the float and odor of hair, This the touch of my lips to yours, this the murmur of yearning, This the far-off depth and height reflecting my own face, This the thoughtful merge of myself, and.I am the hounded slave, I wince at the bite of the dogs, Hell and despair are upon me, crack and again crack the marksmen, I clutch the rails of the fence, my gore dribs, thinn'd with the ooze of my skin, I fall.Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!I ascend from the moon, I ascend from the night, I perceive that the ghastly glimmer is noonday sunbeams reflected, And debouch to the steady and central from the offspring great or small.Vapors lighting køn gerningsmanden kort hamden, ct and shading my face it shall be you!
32 I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd, I stand and look at them long and long.
I am sorry for you, they are not murderous or jealous upon me, All has been gentle with me, I keep no account with lamentation, (What have I to do with lamentation?) I am an acme of things accomplish'd, and I an encloser of things.