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To cotton-field drudge or cleaner of privies I lean, On his right cheek I put the family kiss, And in my soul I swear I never will deny him.
Clear and sweet is my soul, and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and day-long ramble, They rise together, they slowly circle around.Copyright The DayPoems web site, t, is copyright by Timothy.That I walk up my stoop, I pause to consider if it really be, A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.I am the hounded slave, I wince at the bite of the dogs, Hell and despair are upon me, crack and again crack the marksmen, I clutch the rails of the fence, my gore dribs, thinn'd with the ooze of my skin, I fall.I wonder where they get those tokens, Did I pass that way huge times ago and negligently drop them?14 The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night, Ya-honk he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation, The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listening close, Find its purpose and place up there toward the wintry sky.And to all generals that lost engagements, and all overcome heroes!Far-swooping elbow'd earth-rich apple-blossom'd earth!And what is life?The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate.47 I am the teacher of athletes, He that by me spreads a wider breast than my own proves the width of my own, He most honors my style who learns under it to destroy the teacher.
Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic, And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones, Growing among black folks as among white, Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I receive them the same.

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Why should I pray?Root of wash'd sweet-flag!Is he from the Mississippi country?The youngster and the red-faced girl turn aside up the bushy hill, I peeringly view them from the top.I remember now, I resume the overstaid fraction, The grave of rock multiplies what has been confided to it, or to any graves, Corpses rise, gashes heal, fastenings roll from.It shall be you!I do not know what is untried and afterward, But I know it will in its turn prove sufficient, and cannot fail.
Our frigate takes fire, The other asks if we demand quarter?





I lie in the night air in my red shirt, the pervading hush is for my sake, Painless after all I lie exhausted but not so unhappy, White and beautiful are the faces around me, the heads are bared of their fire-caps, The kneeling crowd.
Again gurgles the mouth of my dying general, he furiously waves with his hand, He gasps through the clot Mind not me-mind-the entrenchments.

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