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.
Our frigate takes fire, The other asks if we demand quarter?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening, (Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.) Do I contradict myself?I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots, And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good, The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good.It is not chaos or death-it is form, union, plan-it is eternal life-it is Happiness.I troop forth replenish'd with supreme power, one of an average unending procession, Inland and sea-coast we go, and pass all boundary lines, Our swift ordinances on their way over the whole earth, The blossoms we wear in our hats the growth of thousands.And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.You are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded, I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no, And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot be shaken away.I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion, Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them?A few quadrillions of eras, a few octillions of cubic leagues, do not hazard the span or make it impatient, They are but parts, any thing is but a part.
Smile O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth!
44 It is time to explain myself-let us stand.
I am enamour'd of growing out-doors, Of men that live among cattle or taste of the ocean or woods, Of the builders and steerers of ships and the wielders of axes and mauls, and the drivers of horses, I can eat and sleep with them.
Night of south winds-night of the large few stars!
The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd wilds, It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.My foothold is tenon'd and mortis'd in granite, I laugh at what you call dissolution, And I know the amplitude of time.That I could look with a separate look on my own crucifixion and bloody crowning.24 Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above ms word 2010 crack men and women or apart from them, No more modest than immodest.The blab of the pave, tires of carts, sluff of boot-soles, talk an idiot abroad ebook of the promenaders, The heavy omnibus, the driver with his interrogating thumb, the clank of the shod horses on the granite floor, The snow-sleighs, clinking, shouted jokes, pelts image hdr avec photoshop cs5 of snow-balls, The hurrahs for.The tops alone second the fire of this little battery, especially the main-top, They hold out bravely during the whole of the action.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.31 I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey work of the stars, And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is a chef-d'oeuvre for the highest, And the.Whatever goes to the tilth of me it shall be you!Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river!51 The past and present wilt-I have fill'd them, emptied them.