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Sleep-I and they keep guard all night, Not doubt, not decease shall dare to lay finger upon you, I have embraced you, and henceforth possess you to myself, And when you rise in the morning you will find what I tell you.
Broad muscular fields, branches of live oak, loving lounger in my winding paths, it shall be you!I am he attesting sympathy, (Shall I make my list of things in the house and skip the house that supports them?) I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also.Is he waiting for civilization, or past it and mastering it?Prodigal, you have given me love-therefore I to you give love!Our foe was no sulk in his ship I tell you, (said he His was the surly English pluck, and there is no tougher or truer, and never was, and never will be; Along the lower'd eve he came horribly raking.Sea of stretch'd ground-swells, Sea breathing broad and convulsive breaths, Sea of the brine of life and of unshovell'd yet always-ready graves, Howler and scooper of storms, capricious and dainty sea, I am integral with you, I too am of one phase and of all.A word of the faith that never balks, Here or henceforward it is all the same to me, I accept Time absolutely.None obey'd the command to kneel, Some made a mad and helpless rush, some stood stark and straight, A few fell at once, shot in the temple or heart, the living and dead lay together, The maim'd and mangled dug in the dirt, the new-comers.What behaved well in the past or behaves well to-day is not such wonder, The wonder is always and always how there can single frauen frankfurt am main be a mean man or an infidel.Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left you shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look.Again gurgles the mouth of my dying general, he furiously waves with his hand, He gasps through the clot Mind not me-mind-the entrenchments.The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom, I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the pistol has fallen.Night of south winds-night of the large few stars!Perhaps I might tell more.I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers, and am happy, To touch my person to some one else's is about as much as I can stand.I remember now, I resume the overstaid fraction, The grave of rock multiplies what has been confided to it, or to any graves, Corpses rise, gashes heal, fastenings roll from.




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