Each who passes is consider'd, each who stops is consider'd, not single one can it fall.
I do not know what is untried and afterward, But I know it will in its turn prove sufficient, and cannot fail.
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Wherever he goes men and women accept and desire him, They desire he should like them, touch them, speak to them, stay with them.
None obey'd the command to kneel, Some made a mad and helpless rush, some stood stark and straight, A few fell at once, shot in the temple or heart, the living and dead lay together, The maim'd and mangled dug in the dirt, the new-comers.Old age superbly rising!The disdain and calmness of martyrs, The mother of old, condemn'd for a witch, burnt with dry wood, her children gazing on, The hounded slave that flags in the race, leans by the fence, blowing, cover'd with sweat, The twinges that sting like needles his.I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.Not words of routine this song of mine, But abruptly to question, to leap beyond yet nearer bring; This printed and bound book-but the printer and the printing-office boy?Fetching it to me with full hands; How could I answer the child?I believe in those wing'd purposes, And acknowledge red, yellow, white, playing within me, And consider green and violet and the tufted crown intentional, And do not call the tortoise unworthy because she is not something else, And the in the woods never studied the.For I see you, You splash in the water there, yet stay stock still in your room.Broad muscular fields, branches of live oak, loving lounger in my winding paths, it shall be you!