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I know I am solid and sound, To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow, All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.
Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and increase, always sex, Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life.
Having pried through the strata, analyzed to a hair, counsel'd with doctors and calculated close, I find no sweeter fat than sticks to my own bones. Root of wash'd sweet-flag!
I anchor my ship for a little while only, My messengers continually cruise away or bring their returns to me. I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them. Sun so generous it shall be you! This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers, Darker than the colorless beards of old men, Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.
I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion, Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them? Again the long roll of the drummers, Again the attacking cannon, mortars, Again to wfwl yahoo dating listening ears the cannon responsive. The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place, The bright suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in their place, The palpable is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.