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Click to submit poems to DayPoems, comment on DayPoems or a poem within, comment on other poetry sites, update links, or simply get in touch. Nodes powered by at dmoz. This is the source of the first poetry placed on DayPoems.

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Song of Myself By Walt Whitman 1 I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume, For online casino atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer preise fur alte spielautomaten. My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd caso parmalat this soil, this air, Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same, I, now thirty-seven years old in http://atsmedical.info/epiphone-casino-or-riviera.php health begin, Hoping to spiele gratis 40 lineas not till death.

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Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul. Lack one lacks both, and the unseen is proved by the seen, Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn.

Showing the best and dividing it from the worst preise fur alte spielautomaten vexes http://atsmedical.info/planet-hollywood-resort-casino-4.php, Knowing the perfect fitness and equanimity of things, while they discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself.

Welcome is every organ and attribute of me, and of any man hearty and clean, Not an inch nor a particle of an inch more info vile, and none shall be less familiar than the rest. 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 postpone my acceptation please click for source realization and scream at my eyes, That they turn from gazing after and read more the road, And forthwith cipher and show me to a cent, Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is ahead?

Preise fur alte spielautomaten from the pulling and hauling stands what I am, Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary, Looks down, is erect, or bends http://atsmedical.info/casino-duisburg-restaurant-you-can-eat.php arm on an impalpable certain rest, Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next, Both in and out of the roulette phone and watching and wondering at it.

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I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me, And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.

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I do not know what it is any more than he. I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord, A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt, Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose? Or I http://atsmedical.info/red-hawk-casino-address.php the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.

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I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women, And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps. What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children?

They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceas'd the moment life appear'd. All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it. I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and am not contain'd between my hat and boots, And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good, The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good.

I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth, I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and fathomless as myself, They do not know how immortal, but I know. Every kind for itself and its own, for me mine male and female, For me those that have been boys and that love women, For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be slighted, For me the sweet-heart and the old maid, for me mothers and the mothers of mothers, For preise fur alte spielautomaten lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears, For me children and the begetters of children.

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I behold the picturesque giant and love him, and I do not stop there, I go with the team also. In me the caresser of life wherever moving, backward as well as forward sluing, To niches aside and junior bending, not a person or object missing, Absorbing all to myself and for this song.

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The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred affections, They scorn the best I can do to relate them. I am enamour'd of growing out-doors, Of men that live among cattle or taste of the ocean or woods, Of the builders and steerers of ships and the wielders of axes and mauls, and the drivers of horses, I can eat and sleep with them week in and week out.

What is commonest, cheapest, nearest, easiest, is Me, Me going in for my chances, spending for vast returns, Adorning myself to bestow myself on the first that will take me, Not asking the sky to come down to my good will, Scattering it freely forever.

The drover watching his drove sings out to them that would stray, The pedler sweats with his preise fur alte spielautomaten on his back, the purchaser higgling about the odd cent; The bride unrumples her white dress, the minute-hand of the clock moves slowly, The opium-eater reclines with rigid head and uk casino roulette online lips, The prostitute draggles her shawl, her bonnet bobs on her tipsy and pimpled neck, The crowd laugh at her blackguard oaths, the men jeer please click for source wink to each other, Miserable!

I do not laugh at your oaths nor jeer you; The President holding a cabinet council is surrounded by the great Secretaries, On the piazza walk three matrons stately and friendly with twined arms, The crew of the fish-smack pack repeated layers of halibut in the hold, The Missourian crosses the plains toting his wares and his cattle, As the fare-collector goes through the train he gives notice by the jingling of loose change, The floor-men are laying the floor, the tinners are tinning the roof, the masons are calling for mortar, In single file each preise fur alte spielautomaten his hod pass onward the laborers; Seasons pursuing each other the indescribable crowd is gather'd, it is the fourth of Seventh-month, what salutes of cannon and small arms!

I resist any thing better than my own diversity, Breathe the air but leave plenty after me, And am not stuck up, and am in my place. The moth and the fish-eggs are in their place, The bright suns I see and the dark suns I cannot see are in their place, The preise fur alte spielautomaten is in its place and the impalpable is in its place.

This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is, This the common air that bathes the globe. Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won. I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest приемная casino ales насчет gayest for them.

Vivas to those who have fail'd! And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea! And to those themselves who sank in the sea! And to all preise fur alte spielautomaten that lost engagements, and all overcome heroes! And the numberless unknown heroes equal to the greatest heroes known! This is the press of a bashful hand, this the float and odor of hair, This the touch of my lips to yours, this the murmur of yearning, This the far-off depth and height reflecting my own face, This the thoughtful merge of myself, and the outlet again.

Do you guess I have some intricate purpose? Well I have, for the Fourth-month showers have, and the mica on the side of a rock has.


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