I am large, I contain multitudes

O the joy of the strong-brawn'd fighter, towering in the arena in perfect condition, conscious of power, thirsting to meet his opponent.

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun.... there are millions of suns left, You shall no longer take things at second or third hand.... nor look through the eyes of the dead.... nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from yourself.

In the confusion we stay with each other, happy to be together, speaking without uttering a single word.

The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first; Be not discouraged - keep on - there are divine things, well envelop'd; I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.

Thunder on! Stride on! Democracy. Strike with vengeful stroke!

Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged. Missing me one place, search another. I stop somewhere waiting for you.