I visit the orchards of spheres and look at the product, And look at quintillions ripen'd and look at quintillions green.
Vivas to those who have fail'd!The young mechanic is closest to me, he knows me well, The woodman that takes his axe and jug with him shall take me with him all day, The farm-boy ploughing in the field feels good at the sound of my voice, In vessels that.Mine is no callous shell, I have instant conductors all over me whether I pass or stop, They seize every object and lead it harmlessly through.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.And what is life?My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and day-long ramble, They rise together, they slowly circle around.Have you reckon'd the earth much?Whimpering and truckling fold with powders for invalids, conformity goes to the fourth-remov'd, I wear my hat as I please indoors or out.Wherever he goes men and women accept and desire him, They desire he should like them, touch them, speak to them, stay with them.Magnifying and applying come I, Outbidding at the start the old cautious hucksters, Taking myself the exact dimensions of Jehovah, Lithographing Kronos, Zeus his son, and Hercules his grandson, Buying drafts of Osiris, Isis, Belus, Brahma, Buddha, In my portfolio placing Manito loose, Allah.I do not know what is untried and afterward, But I know it will in its turn prove sufficient, and cannot fail.Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?26 Now I will do nothing but listen, To accrue what I hear into this song, to let sounds contribute toward.My ties and ballasts leave me, my elbows rest in sea-gaps, I skirt sierras, my palms cover continents, I am afoot with my vision.
Smile O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth!
Quivering me to a new identity, Flames and ether making a rush for my veins, Treacherous tip of me reaching and crowding to help them, My flesh and blood playing out lightning to strike what is hardly different from myself, On all sides prurient provokers.The transit to and from the magazine is now stopt by the sentinels, They see so many strange faces they do not know whom to trust.And to all generals that lost engagements, and all overcome heroes!6 A child said What is the grass?And what is love?Earth of the slumbering sunset times 2015 san diego and liquid trees!I know I am deathless, I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass, I know I shall not pass like a child's carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night.The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate.23 Endless unfolding of words supertux 0.3.0 level editor of ages!
Will you prove already too late?
To behold the day-break!