I machines a sous sous gratuites 100 lignes chant the chant of dilation or pride, We have had ducking and deprecating about enough, I show that size is only development.
Do you guess I have some intricate purpose?
Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.That I could forget the mockers and insults!By, walt Whitman, i celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.Urge and urge and urge, Always the procreant urge of the world.I am the mash'd fireman with breast-bone broken, Tumbling walls buried me in their casino jeu gratuit machine a sous upon a time debris, Heat and smoke I inspired, I heard the yelling shouts of my comrades, I heard the distant click of their picks and shovels, They have clear'd the beams away, they.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.3 I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end, But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.Do I astonish more than they?If you are like us, you have strong feelings about poetry, and about each poem you read.
Mix'd tussled hay of head, beard, brawn, it shall be you!
Parting track'd by arriving, perpetual payment of perpetual loan, Rich showering rain, and recompense richer afterward.
29 Blind loving wrestling touch, sheath'd hooded sharp-tooth'd touch!
And what is life?
We have thus far exhausted trillions of winters and summers, There are trillions ahead, and trillions ahead of them.O manhood, balanced, florid and full.Now I see it is true, what I guess'd at, What I guess'd when I loaf'd on the grass, What I guess'd while I lay alone in my bed, And again as I walk'd the beach under the paling stars of the morning.I do not say these things for a dollar or to fill up the time while I wait for a boat, (It is you talking just as much as myself, I act as the tongue of you, Tied in your mouth, in mine it begins.The transit to and from the magazine is now stopt by the sentinels, They see so many strange faces they do not know whom to trust.I dote on myself, there is that lot of me and all so luscious, Each moment and whatever happens thrills me with joy, I cannot tell how my ankles bend, nor whence the cause of my faintest wish, Nor the cause of the friendship.Fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child?