Page:Leaves of Grass (1860).djvu/66

58 Dazzling and tremendous, how quick the sun-rise
 * would kill me,

If I could not now and always send sun-rise out
 * of me.

We also ascend, dazzling and tremendous as the sun, We found our own, O my Soul, in the calm and cool
 * of the day-break.

My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds, and
 * volumes of worlds.

Speech is the twin of my vision—it is unequal to
 * measure itself;

It provokes me forever, It says sarcastically, Walt, you understand enough—
 * why don’t you let it out then?

Come now, I will not be tantalized—you conceive
 * too much of articulation.

Do you not know how the buds beneath are folded? Waiting in gloom, protected by frost, The dirt receding before my prophetical screams, I underlying causes, to balance them at last, My knowledge my live parts—it keeping tally with
 * the meaning of things,

Happiness—which; whoever hears me, let him or her
 * set out in search of this day.

My final merit I refuse you—I refuse putting from
 * me the best I am.