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Divine am kvinder søger mand for forholdet I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch'd from, The scent of these arm-pits aroma finer than prayer, This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds.
Not words of routine this song of mine, But abruptly to question, to leap beyond yet nearer bring; This printed and bound book-but the printer and the printing-office boy?
I know perfectly well my own egotism, Know my omnivorous lines and must not write any less, And would fetch you voksen finders whoever you are flush with myself.
And I say to mankind, Be not curious about God, For I who am curious about each am not curious about God, (No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God and about death.) I hear and behold God.Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current and index.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.From the cinder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements, The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive arms, Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure, They do not hasten, each man hits in his place.I saw the marriage of the trapper in the open air in the far west, the bride was a red girl, Her father and his friends sat near cross-legged and dumbly smoking, they had moccasins to their feet and large thick blankets hanging from their.Vivas to those who have fail'd!




Are you the President?In the houses the dishes and fare and furniture-but the host and hostess, and the look out of their eyes?46 I know I have the best of time and space, and was never measured and never will be measured.My voice is the wife's voice, the screech by the rail of the stairs, They fetch my man's body up dripping and drown'd.O welcome, ineffable grace of dying days!Fighting at sun-down, fighting at dark, Ten o'clock at night, the full moon well up, our leaks on the gain, and five feet of water reported, The master-at-arms loosing the prisoners confined in the after-hold to give them a chance for themselves.Whoever degrades another degrades me, And whatever is done or said returns at last.I see something of God each hour of the twenty-four, and each moment then, In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass, I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one.24 Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them, No more modest than immodest.
I but loughton essex lokale avis use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion, Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them?
I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.


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