When the Hartford

With all their ancient struggles, martyrs, heroes, epics, wars, thou
Hell and despair are upon me, crack and again crack the marksmen
Ever provoking questions
No more the sad, unnatural shows of war
The white-topt mountains show in the distance, I fling out my
How bright shine the cutlasses of the foremost troops!
Echoes, ripples, buzzd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine

How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turnd over upon me
A river man, or a man of the woods or of any farm-life of these
Rest not till you rivet and publish yourself of your own Personality
The universe is duly in order, every thing is in its place
Flatting the flesh of my nose on the thick plate glass
On Syrian ground!
Responsive to our summons
Dead and divine and brother of all, and here again he lies

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