草叶集 第八章（10）

    haply the brutish measureless human undergroe ?tools,

    haply the lifeless cross i knohted,

    ht, steady, ineffable, vouchsafed of thee,

    light rare untellable, lighting the very light,

    beyond all signs, descriptions, languages;

    for that o god, be it my latest  in upon me,

    the voyage balk'd, the course disputed, lost,

    i yield my ships to thee.

    my hands, my limbs gro fast to thee, o god,

    though the ht i speak, or am i raving?

    guesses of it spread before me,

    of nehty parturition,

    mocking, perplexing me.

    and these things i see suddenly, h the air and sky,

    and on the distant ues i hear saluting me.

    to think of time—of all that retrospection,

    to think of to?day, and the ages continued henceforuess'd you yourself  to you?

    is to?day nothing? is the beginningless past nothing?

    if the future is nothing they are just as surely nothing.

    to think that the sun rose in the

    east—that men and  ht of death merged

    in the thought of materials,

    to think of all these

    great interest in them, and  no interest in them.

    to think hoer  our houses,

    to think others shall be just as eager, and  the house that serves him a fehty years at most,

    i see one building the house that serves him longer than that.)

    slo and black lines creep over the whole earth—they never

    cease—they are the burial lines,

    he that was president was buried, and he that is now president shall

    surely be buried.

    what will be will be well, for what is is well,

    to take interest is well, and not to take interest shall be well.</p>

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