| 1 IT is ended—I dally no more, |
|
After to-day I inure myself to run, leap, swim,
wrestle, fight, |
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To stand the cold or heat—to take good aim with a
gun—to sail a boat—to manage horses—to beget superb children, |
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To speak readily and clearly—to feel at home among
common people, |
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And to hold my own in terrible positions, on land
and sea. |
| 2 Not for an embroiderer, |
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(There will always be plenty of embroiderers—I
welcome them also;) |
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But for the fibre of things, and for inherent men and
women. |
| 3 Not to chisel ornaments, |
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But to chisel with free stroke the heads and limbs of
plenteous Supreme Gods, that The States may realize them, walking and talking. |
| 4 Let me have my own way, |
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Let others promulge the laws—I will make no ac-
count of the laws, |
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Let others praise eminent men and hold up peace—
I hold up agitation and conflict, |
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I praise no eminent man—I rebuke to his face the
one that was thought most worthy. |
|
5
(Who are you? you mean devil! And what are you
secretly guilty of, all your life? |
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Will you turn aside all your life? Will you grub
and chatter all your life?) |
|
6
(And who are you—blabbing by rote, years, pages,
languages, reminiscences, |
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Unwitting to-day that you do not know how to speak
a single word?) |
| 7 Let others finish specimens—I never finish specimens, |
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I shower them by exhaustless laws, as nature does,
fresh and modern continually. |
| 8 I give nothing as duties, |
| What others give as duties, I give as living impulses; |
| (Shall I give the heart's action as a duty?) |
|
9
Let others dispose of questions—I dispose of noth-
ing—I arouse unanswerable questions; |
| Who are they I see and touch, and what about them? |
|
What about these likes of myself, that draw me so
close by tender directions and indirections? |
|
10
Let others deny the evil their enemies charge against
them—but how can I the like? |
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Nothing ever has been, or ever can be, charged against
me, half as bad as the evil I really am; |
|
I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my
friends, but listen to my enemies—as I my- self do; |
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I charge you, too, forever, reject those who would
expound me—for I cannot expound myself, |
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I charge that there be no theory or school founded out
of me, |
| I charge you to leave all free, as I have left all free. |
| 11 After me, vista! |
| O, I see life is not short, but immeasurably long, |
|
I henceforth tread the world, chaste, temperate, an
early riser, a gymnast, a steady grower, |
|
Every hour the semen of centuries—and still of cen-
turies. |
|
12
I will follow up these continual lessons of the air,
water, earth, |
| I perceive I have no time to lose. |