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Rh The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of love
 * and resistance,

The upper-hold and under-hold, the hair rumpled
 * over and blinding the eyes;

The march of firemen in their own costumes, the
 * play of masculine muscle through clean-setting
 * trousers and waist-straps,

The slow return from the fire, the pause when the
 * bell strikes suddenly again, and the listening on
 * the alert,

The natural, perfect, varied attitudes—the bent head,
 * the curved neck, and the counting,

Such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at
 * the mother's breast with the little child,

Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers,
 * march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen,
 * and count.

I knew a man, He was a common farmer—he was the father of five
 * sons,

And in them were the fathers of sons—and in them
 * were the fathers of sons.

This man was of wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty
 * of person,

The shape of his head, the richness and breadth of
 * his manners, the pale yellow and white of his
 * hair and beard, and the immeasurable meaning
 * of his black eyes,

These I used to go and visit him to see—he was wise
 * also,