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Prodigal, you have given me love-therefore I to you give love!
A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.Ah the homeliest of them is beautiful to her.This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look'd at the crowded heaven, And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs, and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we be fill'd and satisfied then?Sprouts take and accumulate, stand by adult friend finder vermelding the curb prolific and vital, Landscapes projected masculine, full-sized and golden.20 Who goes there?Is he some Southwesterner rais'd out-doors?And mine a word of the modern, the word En-Masse.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.It is not chaos or death-it is form, union, plan-it is eternal adult dating lijst met url life-it is Happiness.
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 am satisfied-I see, dance, laugh, sing; As the hugging and loving bed-fellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with their plenty, Shall.
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.
I do not call one greater and one smaller, That which fills its period and place is equal to any.
For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their carbines and keep watch, It is I let out in the morning and barr'd at night.Copyright The DayPoems web site, t, is copyright by Timothy.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.Or sailor from the sea?Come now I will not be tantalized, you conceive too much of articulation, Do you not know O speech how the buds beneath you are folded?And what do you think has become of the women and children?Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake!I dilate you with tremendous breath, I buoy you up, Every room of the house do I fill with an arm'd force, Lovers of me, bafflers of graves.(Round and round we go, all of us, and ever come back thither If nothing lay more develop'd the quahaug in its callous shell were enough.And to those themselves who sank in the sea!


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