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I hear and behold God in all object, yet understand God not all the rage the least, Nor do I absorb who there can be more amazing than myself. Earth of shine after that dark mottling the tide of the river! And I say to mankind, Be not curious about God, Designed for I who am curious about all am not curious about God, Denial array of terms can say how much I am at peace a propos God and about death. And at the same time as to you Life I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths, No doubt I have died for my part ten thousand times before.

Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars? My lovers suffocate me, Crowding my lips, thick in the pores of my skin, Jostling me through streets and public halls, coming naked en route for me at night, Crying by calendar day, Ahoy! Or I guess the betray is itself a child, the bent babe of the vegetation. The DayPoems web site, www. My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and day-long ramble, They advance together, they slowly circle around. Always the hard unsunk ground, Ever the eaters and drinkers, ever the ascendant and downward sun, ever the aerate and the ceaseless tides, Ever for my part and my neighbors, refreshing, wicked, actual, Ever the old inexplicable query, always that thorn'd thumb, that breath of itches and thirsts, Ever the vexer's hoot! To any one dying, thither I speed and twist the bulge of the door. Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs!

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Behavior lawless as snow-flakes, words simple at the same time as grass, uncomb'd head, laughter, and naivete, Slow-stepping feet, common features, common modes and emanations, They descend in additional forms from the tips of his fingers, They are wafted with the odor of his body or breathing, they fly out of the browse of his eyes. I seize the descending man and raise him along with resistless will, O despairer, here is my neck, By God, you shall not go down! My voice goes after what my eyes cannot access, With the twirl of my dialect I encompass worlds and volumes of worlds. We have thus far beat trillions of winters and summers, Around are trillions ahead, and trillions ahead of time of them.

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The beards of the young men glisten'd with wet, it ran from their long hair, Little streams pass'd altogether over their bodies. What do you think has become of the adolescent and old men? Mix'd tussled feed of head, beard, brawn, it shall be you! I heard what was said of the universe, Heard it and heard it of several thousand years; It is middling well at the same time as far as it goes--but is so as to all? Urge and urge and advise, Always the procreant urge of the world. In the houses the dishes and fare and furniture--but the congregation and hostess, and the look pasado of their eyes? It is not chaos or death--it is form, accord, plan--it is eternal life--it is Bliss.

I know I am august, I accomplish not trouble my spirit to absolve itself or be understood, I accompany that the elementary laws never act contrite, I reckon I behave no prouder than the level I plant my house by, after all. Continue your annotations, continue your questionings. I accomplish not snivel that snivel the earth over, That months are vacuums after that the ground but wallow and debris. The sky up there--yet here before next door, or across the way? I also say it is able to fall, battles are lost all the rage the same spirit in which they are won.