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Not Heaving From My Ribb'd Breast Only.

Part of the cluster CALAMUS.


NOT heaving from my ribb'd breast only; Not in sighs at night, in rage, dissatisfied with myself; Not in those long-drawn, ill-supprest sighs; Not in many an oath and promise broken; Not in my wilful and savage soul's volition; Not in the subtle nourishment of the air; Not in this beating and pounding at my temples and  
Not in the curious systole and diastole within, which  
 will one day cease;
Not in many a hungry wish, told to the skies only; Not in cries, laughter, defiances, thrown from me when  
 alone, far in the wilds;
Not in husky pantings through clench'd teeth; Not in sounded and resounded words—chattering words,  
 echoes, dead words;
Not in the murmurs of my dreams while I sleep, Nor the other murmurs of these incredible dreams of  
 every day;
Nor in the limbs and senses of my body, that take you  
 and dismiss you continually—Not there;
Not in any or all of them, O adhesiveness! O pulse of  
 my life!
Need I that you exist and show yourself, any more than  
 in these songs.

Part of the cluster CALAMUS.

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