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Rh I speak not, yet if you hear me not, of what avail am
 * I to you?

To bear—to better—lacking these, of what avail
 * am I?

Accouche! Accouchez! Will you rot your own fruit in yourself there ? Will you squat and stifle there ?

The earth does not argue, Is not pathetic, has no arrangements, Does not scream, haste, persuade, threaten, promise, Makes no discriminations, has no conceivable failures, Closes nothing, refuses nothing, shuts none out, Of all the powers, objects, states, it notifies, shuts
 * none out.

The earth does not exhibit itself, nor refuse to exhibit
 * itself—possesses still underneath.

Underneath the ostensible sounds, the august chorus
 * of heroes, the wail of slaves.

Persuasions of lovers, curses, gasps of the dying,
 * laughter of young people, accents of bargainers,

Underneath these, possessing the words that never
 * fail.

To her children, the words of the eloquent dumb
 * great mother never fail,

The true words do not fail, for motion does not fail,
 * and reflection does not fail.

Also the day and night do not fail, and the voyage
 * we pursue does not fail.