If you done it, it ain't bragging.

I accept reality and dare not question it.

Clear and sweet is my soul, clear and sweet is all that is not my soul.

I see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-beloved, saying to the people, "Do not weep for me, This is not my true country, I have lived banished from my true country - I now go back there, I return to the celestial sphere where every one goes in his turn."

Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son, Turbulent, fleshy, sensual, eating, drinking and breeding, No sentimentalist, no stander above men and women or apart from them, No more modest than immodest.

O Captain my Captain! our fearful trip is done, / The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won

The work for giants...to serve well the guns!