To behold the day-break! 27 To be in any form, what is that? There is no stoppage and never can be stoppage, If I, you, and the worlds, and all beneath or upon their surfaces, were this moment reduced back to a pallid float, it would not avail the long run, We should surely bring up again where. Will you prove already too late? Not a moment's cease, The leaks gain fast on the pumps, the fire eats toward the powder-magazine. This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is
This the common air that bathes the globe. I am he attesting sympathy, (Shall I make my list of things in the house and skip the house that supports them?) I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also.
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I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore, Now I will you to be a bold swimmer, To jump off in the midst of the sea, rise again, nod to me, shout, and laughingly dash with your hair. My rendezvous is appointed, it is certain, The Lord will be there and wait till I come on perfect terms, The great Camerado, the lover true for whom I pine will be there.
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Somehow I have been stunn'd. In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barley-corn less, And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them. Hang your whole weight upon.