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Rise after rise bow the phantoms behind me, Afar down I see the huge first Nothing, I know I was even there, I waited unseen and always, and slept through the lethargic mist, And took my time, and took no hurt from the fetid carbon.My breath is tight in its throat, Unclench your floodgates, you are too much for.(This day I am jetting the stuff of far more arrogant republics.) To any one dying, thither adult dating paradis I speed and twist the knob of the door.This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is, This the common air that bathes the globe.I dilate you with tremendous breath, I buoy you up, Every room of the house do I fill with an arm'd force, Lovers of me, bafflers of graves.48 I have said that the soul is not more than the body, And I have said that the body is not more than the soul, And nothing, not God, is greater to one than one's self is, And whoever walks a furlong without sympathy.The boatmen and clam-diggers arose early and stopt for me, I tuck'd my trowser-ends in my boots and went and had a good time; You should have been with us that day round the chowder-kettle.My brain it shall be your occult convolutions!43 I do not despise you priests, all time, the world over, My faith is the greatest of faiths and the least of faiths, Enclosing worship ancient and modern and all between ancient and modern, Believing I shall come again upon the earth after five.I am satisfied-I see, dance, laugh, sing; As the hugging and loving bed-fellow sleeps at my side through the night, and withdraws at the peep of the day with stealthy tread, Leaving me baskets cover'd with white towels swelling the house with their plenty, Shall.I chant the chant of dilation or pride, We have had ducking and deprecating about enough, I show that size is only development.29 Blind loving wrestling touch, sheath'd hooded sharp-tooth'd touch!Why should I wish to see God better than this day?That I could forget the trickling tears and the blows of the bludgeons and hammers!21 I am the poet of the Body and I am the poet of the Soul, The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me, The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into new.The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd wilds, It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.Far-swooping elbow'd earth-rich apple-blossom'd earth!Somehow I have been stunn'd.

Ever the hard unsunk ground, Ever the eaters and drinkers, ever the upward and downward sun, ever the air and the ceaseless tides, Ever myself and my neighbors, refreshing, wicked, real, Ever the old inexplicable query, ever that thorn'd thumb, that breath of itches and.
And what is life?
Sun so generous it shall be you!