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.
Down-hearted doubters dull and excluded, Frivolous, sullen, moping, angry, affected, dishearten'd, atheistical, I know every one of juegos de casino gratis ruleta americana you, I know the sea of torment, doubt, despair and unbelief.
Man or woman, I might tell how I like you, but cannot, And might tell what it is in me and what it is in you, but cannot, And might tell that free blackjack 777 pining I have, that pulse of my nights and days.
52 The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me, he complains of my gab and my loitering.
I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of democracy, By God!I will accept nothing which all cannot have their counterpart of on the same terms.One of the pumps has been shot away, it is generally thought we are sinking.The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work.I but 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.
Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her.
Give me a little time beyond my cuff'd head, slumbers, dreams, gaping, I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.
13 The negro holds firmly the reins of his four horses, the block swags underneath on its tied-over chain, The negro that drives the long dray of the stone-yard, steady and tall he stands pois'd on one leg on the string-piece, His blue shirt exposes.
Do I astonish more than they?The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair, Little streams pass'd all over their bodies.I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat, gossip of flames, clack of sticks cooking my meals, I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice, I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or following, Sounds of the city and.Winds whose soft-tickling genitals rub against me it shall be you!I know I am august, I do not trouble my spirit to vindicate itself or be understood, I see that the elementary laws never apologize, (I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by, after all.) I exist.Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current and index.