 | Leaves of grass. |  |
3
10 O thicker and faster!
(So long!)
O crowding too close upon me;
I foresee too much — it means more than I thought,
It appears to me I am dying.
11 Hasten throat, and sound your last!
Salute me — salute the days once more. Peal the old cry once more.
12 Screaming electric, the
atmosphere using,
At random glancing, each as a notice absorbing,
Swiftly on, but a little while alighting,
Curious envelop'd messages delivering,
Sparkles hot, seed ethereal, down in the dirt dropping,
Myself unknowing, my commission obeying, to ques- tion it never daring,
To ages, and ages yet, the growth of the seed leaving,
To troops out of me rising — they the tasks I have set promulging,
To women certain whispers of myself bequeathing — their affection me more clearly explaining,
To young men my problems offering — no dallier I — I the muscle of their brains trying,
So I pass — a little time vocal, visible, contrary,
Afterward, a melodious echo, passionately bent for — (death making me really undying,)
The best of me then when no longer visible — for to- ward that I have been incessantly preparing.
13 What is there more, that I lag and pause, and crouch extended with unshut mouth?
Is there a single final farewell?
O crowding too close upon me;
I foresee too much — it means more than I thought,
It appears to me I am dying.
11 Hasten throat, and sound your last!
Salute me — salute the days once more. Peal the old cry once more.
35c
At random glancing, each as a notice absorbing,
Swiftly on, but a little while alighting,
Curious envelop'd messages delivering,
Sparkles hot, seed ethereal, down in the dirt dropping,
Myself unknowing, my commission obeying, to ques- tion it never daring,
To ages, and ages yet, the growth of the seed leaving,
To troops out of me rising — they the tasks I have set promulging,
To women certain whispers of myself bequeathing — their affection me more clearly explaining,
To young men my problems offering — no dallier I — I the muscle of their brains trying,
So I pass — a little time vocal, visible, contrary,
Afterward, a melodious echo, passionately bent for — (death making me really undying,)
The best of me then when no longer visible — for to- ward that I have been incessantly preparing.
13 What is there more, that I lag and pause, and crouch extended with unshut mouth?
Is there a single final farewell?
| Leaves of grass. | |