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Able-bodied I have, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has. So as to I could forget the trickling tears and the blows of the bludgeons and hammers! Writing and talk accomplish not prove me, I carry the plenum of proof and every affair else in my face, With the hush of my lips I altogether confound the skeptic. Sermons, creeds, theology--but the fathomless human brain, And can you repeat that? is reason?

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All kind for itself and its accept, for me mine male and lady, For me those that have been boys and that love women, Designed for me the man that is arrogant and feels how it stings en route for be slighted, For me the sweet-heart and the old maid, for me mothers and the mothers of mothers, For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears, Designed for me children and the begetters of children. I know I am concrete and sound, To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually arise, All are written to me, after that I must get what the character means. A tenor large and airy as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full. I anchor my ship for a a small amount while only, My messengers continually coast away or bring their returns en route for me. O welcome, ineffable grace of dying days! Parting track'd by arriving, perpetual payment of perpetual loan, Abound showering rain, and recompense richer afterward.

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