The feeling of health, the full noon trill, the song of me rising. The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields. The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag. A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms. The sound of the belchd words of my voice loosd to the eddies of. The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and. My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing. Echoes, ripples, buzzd whispers, love root, silk thread, crotch and vine. I am mad for it to be in contact with me. I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked. It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it. The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the. The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it. I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it. Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with. Nature without check with original energy. I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard. Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten. I, now thirty seven years old in perfect health begin. Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their. My tongue, every atom of my blood, formd from this soil, this air. I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass. For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
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