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Rh Our swift ordinances are on their way over the whole
 * earth,

The blossoms we wear in our hats are the growth of
 * two thousand years.

Élèves, I salute you! I see the approach of your numberless gangs—I see
 * you understand yourselves and me,

And know that they who have eyes and can walk are
 * divine, and the blind and lame are equally divine,

And that my steps drag behind yours, yet go before
 * them,

And are aware how I am with you no more than I am
 * with everybody.

The friendly and flowing savage, Who is he? Is he waiting for civilization, or past it and mastering it?

Is he some south-westerner, raised out-doors? Is he
 * Kanadian?

Is he from the Mississippi country? Iowa, Oregon,
 * California? the mountains? prairie-life, bush-
 * life? or from the sea?

Wherever he goes men and women accept and desire
 * him,

They desire he should like them, touch them, speak
 * to them, stay with them.

Behavior lawless as snow-flakes, words simple as
 * grass, uncombed head, laughter, and naïveté,

Slow-stepping feet, common features, common modes
 * and emanations,