Are you the new person drawn toward me? To begin with, take warning, I am surely far different from what you suppose.

The strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung.

Loafe with me on the grass—loose the stop from your throat; Not words, not music or rhyme I want—not custom or lecture, not even the best; Only the lull I like, the hum of your valved voice.

I open my scuttle at night and see the far-sprinkled systems, All all I see multiplied as high as I can cipher edge but the rim of the farther systems. Wider and wider they spread, expanding, always expanding, Outward and outward and forever outward.

Once fully enslaved, no nation, state, city of this earth ever afterward resumes its liberty.

From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines.

I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen, And accrue what I hear into myself...and let sound contribute toward me.