My call is the call of battle- I nourish active rebellion;/ He going with me must go well armed.

I mind how once we lay such a transparent summer morning, How you settled your head athwart my hips and gently turn'd over upon me, And parted the shirt from my bosom-bone, and plunged your tongue to my bare-stript heart, And reach'd till you felt my beard, and reach'd till you held my feet.

And I will show of male and female that either is but the equal of the other.

not one escaped to tell the fall of Alamo, The hundred & fifty are dumb yet at Alamo.

That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly wash again and ever again, this soiled world.

Sure as the most certain sure .... plumb in the uprights, well entreated, braced in the beams, Stout as a horse, affectionate, haughty, electrical, I and this mystery we stand. Clear and sweet is my soul .... and clear and sweet is all that is not my soul, Lack one lacks both .... and the unseen is proved by the seen Till that becomes unseen and receives proof in its turn. To elaborate is no avail .... Learned and unlearned feel that it is so.

But where is what I started for so long ago? And why is it yet unfound?