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Leaves of grass. | ||
52
360 The spotted hawk swoops
by and accuses me — he
complains of
my gab and my loitering.
361 I too am not a bit
tamed — I too am untranslatable;
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
362 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.
363 I depart as air — I shake my white Jocks at the run- away sun;
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.
364 I bequeathe myself to the dirt, to grow from the grass I love;
If you want me again, look for me under your boot-soles.
365 You will hardly know who I am, or what I mean;
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.
366 Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged;
Missing me one place, search another;
I stop somewhere, waiting for you.
94
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
362 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.
363 I depart as air — I shake my white Jocks at the run- away sun;
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.
364 I bequeathe myself to the dirt, to grow from the grass I love;
If you want me again, look for me under your boot-soles.
365 You will hardly know who I am, or what I mean;
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.
366 Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged;
Missing me one place, search another;
I stop somewhere, waiting for you.
95
Leaves of grass. | ||