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To suit and serve his need

Deserves his load.

AN OLD SONG RESUNG

BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white

feet.

She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;

But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.

In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white

hand.

She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;

But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

A Selection from THE POEM OF JOYS

BY WALT WHITMAN

O the joy of my spirit! it is uncaged! it darts like lightning!

It is not enough to have this globe, or a certain time

I will have thousands of globes, and all time ..

O something pernicious and dread!

Something far away from a puny and pious life! Something unproved! Something in a trance! Something escaped. from the anchorage, and driving free . .

O to realize space!

The plenteousness of all-that there are no bounds; To emerge, and be of the sky-of the sun and moon, and the flying clouds, as one with them.

O the joy of a manly self-hood!

Personality to be servile to none-to defer to nonenot to any tyrant, known or unknown,

To walk with erect carriage, a step springy and elastic,
To look with calm gaze, or with a flashing eye,
To speak with a full and sonorous voice, out of a broad
chest,

To confront with your personality all the other personalities of the earth . . .

O, while I live, to be the ruler of life-not a slave, To meet life as a powerful conqueror,

No fumes-no ennui-no more complaints, or scornful criticisms . . .

O, to sail to sea in a ship!

To leave this steady and unendurable land!

To leave the tiresome sameness of the streets, the sidewalks and the houses;

To leave you, O solid and motionless land, and enter

ing a ship,

To sail, and sail, and sail.

O to have my life henceforth a poem of new joys! To dance, clap hands, exult, shout, skip, leap, roll on, float on,

To be a sailor of the world, bound for all ports,

A ship itself, (see indeed these sails I spread to the sun and air,)

A swift and swelling ship, full of rich words-full of joys.

From PASSAGE TO INDIA

BY WALT WHITMAN

Passage to more than India!

O secret of the earth and sky!

Of you, O waters of the sea! O winding creeks and rivers!

Of you, O woods and fields! Of you, strong mountains of my land!

Of you, O prairies, Of you, gray rocks,

O morning red! O clouds! O rains and snows!

O day and night, passage to you!

O sun and moon, and all you stars! Sirius and Jupiter!

Passage to you!

Passage-immediate passage! the blood burns in my

veins!

Away, O soul! hoist instantly the anchor!

Cut the hawsers-haul out-shake out every sail! Have we not stood here like trees in the ground long enough?

Have we not grovell'd here long enough, eating and drinking like mere brutes?

Have we not darken'd and dazed ourselves with books long enough?

Sail forth! steer for the deep waters only!

Reckless, O soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with

me;

For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go,

And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all.

O my brave soul!

O farther, farther sail!

O daring joy, but safe! Are they not all the seas of God?

O farther, farther, farther sail!

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