somehow I have been stunn'd. Stand back!
Give me a little time beyond my cuff'd head, slumbers,
dreams, gaping,
I discover myself on the verge of a usual mistake.
That I could forget the mockers and insults!
That I could forget the trickling tears and the blows of the
bludgeons and hammers!
That I could look with a separate look on my own crucifixion
and bloody crowning!
I remember now,
I resume the overstaid fraction,
The grave of rock multiplies what has been confided to it, or
to any graves,
Corpses rise, gashes heal, fastenings roll from me.
I troop forth replenish'd with supreme power, on of an aver-
age unending procession,
Inland and sea-coast we go, and pass boundary lines,
Our swift ordinances on their way over the whole earth,
The blossoms we wear on our hats the growth of thousands of
years.
Eleves, I salute you! come forward!
Continue your annotations, continue your questionings.
(W.Whitman: Leaves of Grass)
