Song of Myself: 35
Would you hear of an old-time sea-fight?
Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars?
List to the yarn, as my grandmother’s father the sailor told it to me. . . .
Would you hear of an old-time sea-fight?
Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars?
List to the yarn, as my grandmother’s father the sailor told it to me. . . .
Mine, said the stone,
mine is the hour.
I crush the scissors, . . .
I am the Smoke King
I am black!
I am swinging in the sky,
. . .
Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
. . .
Come, my Celia, let us prove,
While we can, the sports of love;
Time will not be ours forever;
. . .
Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That the dear She might take some pleasure of my pain,
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know, . . .
Not marble nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme,
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
. . .
While one sere leaf, that parting Autumn yields,
Trembles upon the thin, and naked spray,
November, dragging on this sunless day, . . .
On the fleet streams, the Sun, that late arose,
In amber radiance plays; the tall young grass
No foot hath bruised; clear morning, as I pass, . . .
When I consider everything that grows
Holds in perfection but a little moment,
That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows
. . .