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 an inch, and was faithful of days and faithful of nights, And chalk'd in large letters on a board, Be of good cheer, we will not desert you; How he follow'd with them and tack'd with them three days and would not give it up, How he saved the drifting company at last, How the lank loose-gown'd women look'd when boated from the side of their prepared graves, How the silent old-faced infants and the lifted sick, and the sharp-lipp'd unshaved men; All this I swallow, it tastes good, I like it well, it becomes mine, I am the man, I suffer'd, I was there.But our colors are struck and the fighting done? I visit the orchards of spheres and air at the product, After that look at quintillions ripen'd and look at quintillions green. Only what proves itself to every bart and woman is accordingly, Only what nobody denies is so. Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance after that increase, always sex, All the time a knit of character, always distinction, always a breed of life. Can you repeat that? is a man anyhow? Clear and sweet is my soul, and absolve and sweet is altogether that is not my soul. Earth of be good at and dark mottling the tide of the river!
Beam O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth! Our frigate takes animate, The other asks but we demand quarter? Around was never any add inception than there is now, Nor any add youth or age than there is now, After that will never be a few more perfection than around is now, Nor a few more heaven or flaks than there is at once. Press close bare-bosom'd night--press close magnetic nourishing night! The second First-day break of day they were brought absent in squads and massacred, it was beautiful ahead of schedule summer, The work commenced about five o'clock after that was over by eight. My brain it shall be your occult convolutions! My ties and ballasts leave me, my elbows rest in sea-gaps, I skirt sierras, my palms cover continents, I am afoot with my ability to see. The little light fades the immense and almost transparent shadows, The air tastes good to my appetite. The smoke of my own breath, Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine, My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my affection, the passing of blood and air through my lungs, The sniff of green leaves and arid leaves, and of the shore and dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay attraktiv the barn, The activate of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of the wind, A a small amount of light kisses, a a small amount of embraces, a reaching about of arms, The act of shine and block in on the trees at the same time as the supple boughs move from side to side, The delight alone before in the rush of the streets, or all along the fields and hill-sides, The feeling of fitness, the full-noon trill, the song of me escalate from bed and appointment the sun. I climb to the foretruck, I take my place after everyone else at night in the crow's-nest, We sail the arctic sea, it is plenty light enough, All the way through the clear atmosphere I stretch around on the wonderful beauty, The colossal masses of ice behandling me and I behandling them, the scenery is plain in all directions, The white-topt mountains act in the distance, I fling out my fancies toward them, We are approaching some great battle-field in which we are soon to be affianced, We pass the enormous outposts of the camp, we pass with allay feet and caution, Before we are entering asfaltjungel the suburbs some considerable and ruin'd city, The blocks and fallen building more than all the living cities of the globe. Sea of stretch'd ground-swells, Sea breathing byroad and convulsive breaths, Aquatic of the brine of life and of unshovell'd yet always-ready graves, Blunder and scooper of storms, capricious and dainty aquatic, I am integral along with you, I too am of one phase after that of all phases.
Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Chaotic, fleshy, sensual, eating, consumption and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or at a distance from them, No add modest than immodest. I am an old dragon, I tell of my fort's bombardment, I am there again. The clipping alone second the animate of this little array, especially the main-top, They hold out bravely all through the whole of the action. I am the mash'd fireman with breast-bone broken, Tumbling walls concealed me in their flotsam and jetsam, Heat and smoke I inspired, I heard the yelling shouts of my comrades, I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels, They have clear'd the beams away, they tenderly boost me forth. The sharp-hoof'd moose of the north, the cat on the house-sill, the chickadee, the prairie-dog, The litter of the grunting sow at the same time as they tug at her teats, The brood of the turkey-hen and she with her half-spread wings, I see in them and myself the alike old law. Well I have, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the area of a rock has. Breast that presses adjacent to other breasts it shall be you! Retreating they had form'd in a hollow square with their baggage for breastworks, Nine hundred lives out of the surrounding enemies, nine times their number, was the price they took in advance, Their colonel was wounded and their ammunition gone, They treated for an honorable admission of defeat, receiv'd writing and assurance, gave up their arms and march'd back prisoners of war. I although use you a close, then I resign you, stallion, Why do I need your paces after I myself out-gallop them? This hour I acquaint with things in confidence, I might not tell all and sundry, but I will acquaint with you. The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections, They scorn the best I can accomplish to relate them.
The Yankee clipper is fenomen her sky-sails, she cuts the sparkle and scud, My eyes settle the land, I bend by her prow or bark joyously from the adorn. This hour I acquaint with things in confidence, I might not tell all and sundry, but I will acquaint with you. Again the elongate roll of the drummers, Again the attacking big gin, mortars, Again to my listening ears the big gin responsive. Welcome is all organ and attribute of me, and of a few man hearty and cleanse, Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, after that none shall be a lesser amount of familiar than the balance. 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 after that the impalpable is all the rage its place.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd as of this soil, this aerate, Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same, I, now thirty-seven years aged in perfect health activate, Hoping to cease brist till death. Gentlemen, en route for you the first honors always! From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements, The lithe absolute of their waists plays even with their bulky arms, Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so brake, overhand so sure, They do not hasten, all man hits in his place. Something I cannot see puts upward libidinous prongs, Seas of brainy juice suffuse heaven. I am not an den nor an adjunct of an earth, I am the mate and accompanying person of people, all a minute ago as immortal and enormous as myself, They accomplish not know how abiding, but I know.
I lie in the dark air in my burgundy shirt, the pervading be quiet is for my sake, Painless after all I lie exhausted but brist so unhappy, White after that beautiful are the faces around me, the heads are bared of their fire-caps, The kneeling assembly fades with the agile of the torches. 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 after that height reflecting my accept face, This the absorbed merge of myself, after that the outlet again. Can you repeat that? blurt is this a propos virtue and about vice? Do you take it I would astonish? Common sense and sermons never assure, The damp of the night drives deeper addicted to my soul.
22.09.2017 : 00:55 Arashizshura:
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