It is not far, it is within reach, Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know, Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land.
Whoever degrades another degrades me, And whatever is done or said returns at last.
It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.
I dote on myself, there is that lot of hvor kan jeg købe spilleautomater 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.
If our colors are struck and the fighting done?29 Blind loving wrestling touch, sheath'd hooded sharp-tooth'd touch!They were the glory of the race of rangers, Matchless with horse, rifle, song, supper, courtship, Large, turbulent, generous, handsome, proud, and affectionate, Bearded, sunburnt, drest in the free costume of hunters, Not a single one over thirty years of age.23 Endless unfolding of words of ages!I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion, Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them?
I accept Reality and dare not question it, Materialism first and last imbuing.
I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
The suicide sprawls on the bloody floor of the bedroom, I witness the corpse with its dabbled hair, I note where the pistol has fallen.
39 The friendly and flowing savage, who is he?
Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much?Every condition promulges not only itself, it promulges what grows after and out of itself, And the dark hush promulges as much as any.18 With music strong I come, with my cornets and my drums, I play not marches for accepted victors only, I play marches for conquer'd and slain persons.Old age superbly rising!Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the game.Did it make you ache so, leaving me?The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections, They scorn the best I can do to relate them.O manhood, balanced, florid and full.And what is life?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.