, And reach'd till you felt.
Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat, Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best, Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.Machine reel strips giochi di; Slot gratis da scaricare kindle online casinos.Embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering, See myself in prison shaped like another man, And feel the dull unintermitted pain.If I worship one thing more than another it shall be the spread of my own body, or any part of it, Translucent mould of me it shall be you!28 Is this then a touch?Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch'd from, The scent of these arm-pits aroma finer than prayer, This head more than churches, bibles, and all the creeds.
I do not know what it is any more than.
I beat and pound for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and gayest for them.
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Mix'd tussled hay of head, beard, brawn, it shall be you!
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