with the crowded room [Full Poem] [Temp. 0.532]

with the crowded room

     1
Here on the stage and sparkling in the fields and the sound of the sky,
And the sparkling stars of the belly my childhood,
The plumb in the full-sweet piles of power and palaces.

I see my lover and sea-coast of ships and barren barns,
And the streets and wars and the brain and the stars,
And all the world over again.

Silent we saw the gods of the traveling transient sky,
When the huge storms of the black clouds are free,
The flowers bending through the stone and the streets,
The sleeping and old sign to stop the strong and sky.

     2
Closer than the Sun to the river,
The sea of brown and flow of changes, green vines and tracks and
    staff, the steamboat that crawls and saw them through the fields,
    blowing,
I see the silent shadowy eye, perfectly shed by the rear,
Strangers, squadrons, spreads, country, strong, supremer,
I see and tear the song of one a song, to face them there,
And I stand and look at the stars that I love me.

The strength of the rest of the sky,
A star-streaming word is for the deed of the earth,
And all the souls of all the rest, their sight in the continent and the sea
    that we are in the blood of their time,
(There are the soul--but with the world of life and land and many a star,
I love the strength of my love with the fighting eyes.

  The earth is only one, who knows how he wants to be his hand,
He was a holy instant and he was strange with a wall that flies,
And the blooming of the soul of poetry and soul that fails,
And a long time but past the morning and the trial was concenting,
    there are miracles, as if she is not a perfect faith,
Not the world with the world out of the day.

The trumpet is in the mountains of the prizes,
The procession of the minness and the great passion of the life.

     3
It is the judgment and decent day,
Give me the rapid radiance of the modern,
And an invisible words the same.

  The darling of the coming.

Where in the wood is sometime there the place and the stars?
And what are they a half-blood? some half-way part as I walk out of
    the streets of pain and sound and swarming to break out their
    universes,
And the whole house--stiffening the streets, speech, a warm, the
    silent snow-show, nor brown and attributes,
I am common than you, and every one else can never make me not.)

I am a forward to the rest,
I speed off the stalwart the first night a mountain,
I see the trembling white face with the stars,
And somewhere and the same, I say it is not the matter of my thought.

What is your brawn belly to you I meet her, or the war I will do
I done not ask, any thing, he was born, why should I see you
For all who could really like, and let you think it was born,
So I could have been spent to me?

     14
The stars of the brightness of the modern,
For the promise of the universe is better than the real as the
    refrain of the past, and the same as the stars accept,
The animal lives in the midst of an artist, and the same songs, or
    the flag, from the sugar-fields of the student, the ring,
The great charming and scream and the streets of the sky,
The glittering orchestra, and the forest works,
The house and the confolded soul--the streets and the steeps of the night and the stars.

  The proverbing of all the rest,
Thy lips shall come and get them to fall from them all,
They all feel them if we drive and slip with the trees, and the continents of the sky,
    the shipping of the sky,
And the stakes in my brain and the sun, the lines are clearing the sides,
I am not as well as they live to the good of the world.

     16
The spars and the future is accepted by the grave,
The many a song with other talk as we rest the same.

     19
The bards of the past, but I do not know why I am not an earth, any more there is only again,
And when all we have a storm scatter'd with the more than one who lies in the
    courterative and of the morning,
I cannot attack my performance also.

I am a free to me the continent notes and places open my
    still and look for me.

I am a feast to me as I walk'd off the sea,
And as the wars I feel the same as a shame.

  The same as the fields of his and dead,
Singing the whole morning-boy'd earth in the woods of the sky,
And hundreds of the first time they turn away from the window,
And the full-name into an emblem of the heart of the sun,
A few idly out-day and the other and all the soul is only mighty women,
And the book- what happens to him and sea-boat them,
And who thou possess themselves into and absolutely constantly pressing,
The same old farmers come to the broad bay, plunged a height,
And every thing has been without children, what is it, or woman is the word must we reach on the
    stately spheres?
And all I see that my own arms and mouths of great hand also.

     2
Come from the gray of spheres!
I found you the soul--tree the barn-hand and the beads with your
    crowning lips,
Nor any land of some thing in the market, (and mean dart that will never will
    keep each one the same which you are as real,
And the one I see what the blood of the world are touch'd the work of
    the stars of the forest who they are exactly who would be as the same.

The soul--the mother of the dead falling like a white face,
A master than the sky of the dead who refuse to stand on the bed,
A great storm-star waits a laugh at all, and we will serve upon them,
They too are not the best of the modern world or shaped that they were varing in the
    forth by the grass of them that were and the soul,
And who is it for the day when I see there feels to me and what it is--but I know that the last increase of
    the master of the earth and of the seas,
And the soul will be the past and every one I go, I stop it with me.

     30
As I listen to me, I do not know what it is, or the spirit of your hair,
    ready for a distant pasturage.

I do not know what it is, or do it return.)

I swear I will not be confessively alike in them,
My body does not know what if the master had been as boundless and near.

You stand and enter the house of all the rest,
And when I go to thee on the south,
It is not the old man and woman I love you, and for you that day I since?
Why are those that live? and as I come in the book they were also thine?

     15
O America is the State of Old Freedom!
His face is an ancient battle--O you must stop so far,
I know the work of the soul is on the side of my head,
Because I watch and low your dreams and women of the earth.

     3
The soul in the close of the sun,
The drummer is a fiery man to me and women and women and performed,
And the souls of an army life and beauty is alive and disappear.

  The Christmas Court World,
As I walked I learn the chaste from the windows of Chamber,
As the strange sickle of the sea, a superficial fly and the flames,
And the shades of woods and stuff and the sparkling waves, the trumpets and of the
    artists of the streets, their crimes and strong courts,
And the struck ever-ringing the storm, the blue shade, compact all,
The three stretching the trembling earth, and the others are lying on the
    stood, and rapped in the darkness and sea-work,
As the blood stands through the streets a wave--and chill the river of the black of
    the feathers of the sun,
All these I lift my back and are for the present.

I am a free couple of bright years I sing.

  The strange bard of the air with the whole of the mournful store,
The snow-white flags of rough and the trees so squadrones,
As on a living child that carves each one the army liberty with small arms,
The prison's calm of the modern word Less to the Endines and out of the North,
The stagger and the barge of the grave, of the mother of the world,
The millions of words, the true unintermingles and the earth, of the
    money, the same as I live,
With the two hum of my captine and small and round me.

I am a few moments of my content, for I feel the same as for me,
It is with the new and death-embiding and bloody closed and close,
Toil, health, seraphily and sweaty, with paying a work and wheat,
At new tongue and sparrow, slow as they are blushing the soul.

I know it is a top of all the rest,
If I can't linger to the same which what is lest the strength for you,
I know the entire that looks beneath you are to be you, and must you not ask, and why should I presently were or the journey's naked,
I cannot tell you I am any more than they,
I thought I speed I had kind that look at the gate-words of men and women and am.

I do not know it--is the body, or a woman or as any man who;
    and what is it before--long!

I do not know it--it is the same song.

I see the thrush of the stars,
I see where the spies are sufficient in the streets, and started a thousand twains,
They are the same with his show, and stood in the sunlit page,
And the sweet vines and the stars will not see the sittant homely or power;
When all with the soul is true in secret stroke,
The strong thousand world of the earth goes at your face?

     14
The voice of the night I view them there, who loves me than they
    be an ample thing or scheme,
I speed thee not one day when I got a perfect here,
He is not a bit to be a minor life and death,
I sing no way of perfect sunset, but no harm's wealth at any man to unsee.

     6
I start and live with me,
I too have I been for th2 months and women, I sit,
And the spirit of the most speeding twilight, (he complains as a ship,)
The clean-colors all day and night, and the countenance and the storm,
The snow-balls his throbbing with his ware and high accumulation,
See in the midst of the country in the midst of the modern,
And I knew it well what I have to be bloody and stroked.

I do not know what it is--but I know it was you,
And all we wont to stand any more than he, or is not after the origin,
    the traveling forms straight,
And sing myself to the supremes of the soul,
And who will be the master of the universe.

  The song of the hair of the human race,
The sun and small and scream, and pour the water the blooming of
    the markets of the woods,
A master of many a stranger, but a few fingers,
The nation of the war, the price of reality to the world,
The present new-born battle-balls, the silver restless priests,
Those thousand years of the merry word 1)
But when the day had tolled with the distant voice, whose emerging and beautiful store,
The great chambers and the mangrounds of men and women and lovers and of themselves.

     3
In the land of the world, and the crowded healthy party performent the sun singing
    and countenances,
The indifference all torn themselves in the minness.

  The Saint Oh Other States and Dead by the Constitution

All happiest men and women, distilling they are fully disappears,
And all the arranges they too are the same.

  The spare is the procession,
The other armies, the shadowy depths of the broad earth,
The roadside of many a plan of luster dies,
The flag of the prostituting earth, the world, the wild,
The feeling of the mind, with all the march of all the songs, their footsteps are mighty world,
And all the souls of the soul is alive and long it felt without entire
    immortal are the death.

The court-year at the street floats the stars,
And where we the poets could not be as best and divine,
The stranger with a song of triumphs, and all the others, they are for you,
I know the songs of the grave, and the silly humble buzz's clouds are
    completely with me and beauties and fire,
And am a bit take me and return to me,
I hear you whisper in the sky, so I have seen me looking for your
    strength and going nothing but my first touch,
I know not what you are! and why should I perish it?
I am a fool-side by change, I do not know it can do it, I am any more in the morning,
I know what it is I know that which becomes me.

I see what the best I gather'd what I go,
I will see the true lovers of her hand to see me I do,
I am a traveler's name with it to the shadow,
I started looking at my eyes and support of all the soul is to the same.

     5
We are worth I wander'd to work on my own walls,
I believe in the first thou art thou all and every one I have stopp'd when I see,
I take my own to-day or schemes or shows or death,
I speed about itQue, or any more than you,
And you for all I might to me it is done,
And now I am not afraid I give I come to the march as I walk'd with me.

     16
The prize I have deniated me,
I take them the best of you, I could have nothing to do any more than care;
(I tell him at any majest of the like a moment and
    as my window.

     52
The spot that comes from the boiling world over and addressed yet,
Breathe the same and sublime the world over the States with a pageant thing,
Strong, and library and trees, the body of a hollow house,
I see myself and all with a new and dead beauty of happiness.

     16
I do not know it with my body to you, it is enough,
In the midst of you I know that the singer sets them, the whole of the modern women I forget you,
I blind materials and women as I sing and who plants or like a tide or to fight,
And when I look on the same time, I too am of yourself or the mystic Beauty
    of the Mexico--and you know the soul is so great,
I bless you my hand--I love you! a word of the soul?
Have you not seen that press of them as if you see you, and you do not make me there?
Why do I knew what you must be you, I am not accepted for you,
I know that which sets them all the arms of my love.

I do not speak with me I too am or the knees,
I will soother spirit to me as the soul for me
    than all of them.

     3
The sun is born, the other silently singing
Her presence was not sure as the heroes to the heart discloses
My face would do nothing.

The stream of the broken clouds are track'd by the spheres,
And the stars sleep and the seats of the sky,
    sea-bills, and bells, streets and politics, in the woods,
I am a friend of wit and power and all those grass, are made,
I will not see free to be, and I am happy for the daylight,
And I will not take down to the nearest many a life of him,
The white roses of a continent, a full and night,
And before the same shoulder's all the strength of my soul, it but a ship is accepted to me.)

  The simple and unhappy shore
A forming and her father not a shade
Of consequence the numerous and the sea
That all that were to sing.