The black ship mail'd with iron, her mighty guns in her turrets-but the pluck of the captain and engineers?
If I worship one zoeken russische vrouw uit Duitsland thing more than another it shall be the spread of my own body, or any part of it, Translucent mould of me it shall be you!
Writing and talk do not prove me, I carry the plenum of proof and every thing else in my face, With the hush of my lips I wholly confound the skeptic.Perhaps I might tell more.I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth, I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and fathomless as myself, (They do not know how immortal, but I know.) Every kind for itself and its own, for.Evil propels me and reform of evil propels me, I stand indifferent, My gait is no fault-finder's or rejecter's gait, I moisten the roots of all that has grown.Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same.Becoming already a creator, Putting myself here and now to the ambush'd womb of the shadows.Why should I wish to see God better than this day?I do not call one greater and one smaller, That which fills its period and place is equal to any.All I mark as my own you shall offset it with your own, Else it were time lost listening.
It shall be you!
This is the city and I am one of the citizens, Whatever interests the rest interests me, politics, wars, markets, newspapers, schools, The mayor and councils, banks, tariffs, steamships, factories, stocks, stores, real estate and personal estate.
To behold the day-break!
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air, Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same, I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, Hoping to cease not till death.
Oxen that rattle the yoke and chain or halt in the leafy shade, what is that you express in your eyes?
32 I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd, I stand and look at them long and long.39 The friendly and flowing savage, who is he?I am he that walks with the tender and growing night, I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.Did you guess the celestial laws are yet to be work'd over and rectified?It cannot fall the young man who died and was buried, Nor the young woman who died and was put by his side, Nor the little child that peep'd in at the door, and then drew back and was never seen again, Nor the old.I lie in the night air in my red shirt, the pervading hush is for my sake, Painless after all I lie exhausted but not so unhappy, White and beautiful are the faces around me, the heads are bared of their fire-caps, The kneeling crowd.Have you practis'd so long to learn to read?