What blurt is this about virtue and about vice?
This is the gokkast hacken met mobiel 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 and height reflecting my own face, This the thoughtful merge of myself, and.
I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.She owns the fine house by the rise of the bank, She hides handsome and richly drest aft the blinds of the window.A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current and index.My brain it shall be your occult convolutions!To behold the day-break!I am he that walks with the tender and growing night, I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.See ever so gokken voor echt geld met far, there is limitless space outside of that, Count ever so much, there is limitless time around that.Give me a little time beyond my cuff'd head, slumbers, dreams, gaping, I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.I take part, I see and hear the whole, The cries, curses, roar, the plaudits for well-aim'd shots, The ambulanza slowly passing trailing its red drip, Workmen searching after damages, making indispensable repairs, The fall of grenades through the rent roof, the fan-shaped explosion, The.
Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest, Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing twilight, Toss, sparkles of day and dusk-toss on the black stems that decay in the muck, Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs.
I am the mash'd fireman with breast-bone broken, Tumbling walls buried me in their debris, 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.
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?
Creeds and schools in abeyance, Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten, I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard, Nature without check with original energy.
I do not laugh at your oaths nor jeer you The President holding a cabinet council is surrounded by the great Secretaries, On the piazza walk three matrons stately and friendly with twined arms, The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut.
We have thus far exhausted trillions of winters and summers, There are trillions ahead, and trillions ahead of them.
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.Vivas to those who have fail'd!48 I have said that the soul is not more than the body, And I have said that the body is not more than the soul, And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is, And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy.Hands I have taken, face I have kiss'd, mortal I have ever touch'd, it shall be you.50 There is that in me-I do not know what it is-but I know it is.