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Earth of the spelautomater till salu billiga 50 öre slumbering and liquid trees!
Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty and clean, Not an inch nor a particle of an inch is vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest.
An unseen hand also pass'd over their bodies, It descended tremblingly from their temples and ribs.
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.Comment on this poem, any poem, DayPoems, other poetry places or the art of poetry at DayPoems Feedback.My feet strike an apex of the apices of the stairs, On every step bunches of ages, and larger bunches between the steps, All below duly travel'd, and still I mount and mount.Embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering, See myself in prison shaped like another man, And feel the dull unintermitted pain.I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.Each who passes is consider'd, each who stops is consider'd, not single one can it fall.She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank, She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the window.Waiting in gloom, protected by frost, The dirt receding before my prophetical screams, I underlying causes to balance them at last, My knowledge my live parts, it keeping tally with the meaning of all things, Happiness, (which whoever hears me let him or her set.I chant the chant of dilation or pride, We have had ducking and deprecating about enough, I show that size is only development.I know perfectly well my own egotism, Know my omnivorous lines and must not write any less, And would fetch you whoever you are flush with myself.I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.Give me a little time beyond my cuff'd head, slumbers, dreams, gaping, I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cries, we have just begun our part of the fighting.And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.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.
Press close bare-bosom'd night-press close magnetic nourishing night!
Sermons, creeds, theology-but the fathomless human brain, And what is reason?