The least insect or animal–the senses–eyesight–love;
The first step, I say, aw’d me and pleas’d me so much,
I have hardly gone, and hardly wish’d to go, any farther,
But stop and loiter all the time, to sing it in extatic songs.
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DAREST thou now, O Soul,
Where neither ground is for the feet, nor any path to follow?No map, there, nor guide,Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand,Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land.I know it not, O Soul;Nor dost thou–all is a blank before us;All waits, undream’d of, in that region–that inaccessible land.Till,…
Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of
I fear these supposed realities are to melt from under yourfeet and hands,Even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners,troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you,Your true soul and body appear before me,They stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops,work, farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating,drinking, suffering, dying.Whoever you are,…
SKIRTING the river road, (my forenoon walk, my rest,)
The rushing amorous contact high in space together,The clinching interlocking claws, a living, fierce, gyrating wheel,Four beating wings, two beaks, a swirling mass tight grappling,In tumbling turning clustering loops, straight downward falling,Till o’er the river pois’d, the twain yet one, a moment’s lull,A motionless still balance in the air, then parting, talons loosing,Upward again on…
I WANDER all night in my vision,
stopping,Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of sleepers,Wandering and confused, lost to myself, ill-assorted, contradictory,Pausing, gazing, bending, and stopping.How solemn they look there, stretch’d and still!How quiet they breathe, the little children in their cradles!The wretched features of ennuyés, the white features ofcorpses, the livid faces of drunkards, the sick-gray faces ofonanists,The gash’d…
Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes,
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless,It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it,I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,I am mad for it…
THOU orb aloft full-dazzling! thou hot October noon!
The sibilant near sea with vistas far and foam,And tawny streaks and shades and spreading blue;O sun of noon rufulgent! my special word to thee.Hear me illustrious!Thy lover me, for always I have loved thee,Even as basking babe, then happy boy alone by some wood edge, thytouching-distant beams enough,Or man matured, or young or old,…