divine young man the Hercules toil’d
Louis Vuitton Men’s Handbags and Louis Vuitton Handbags ere druids walk’d the groves of Mona, I see the
mistletoe and vervain,
I see the temples of the deaths of the bodies of Gods, I see the
old signifiers. I see Christ eating the bread of his last supper in the midst of
youths and old persons,
I see where the strong divine young man the Hercules toil’d
faithfully and long and then died,
I see the place of the innocent rich life and hapless fate of the
beautiful nocturnal son, the full-limb’d Bacchus,
I see Kneph, blooming, drest in blue, with the crown of
feathers on his head,
I see Hermes, unsuspected, dying, well-belov’d, saying to the
people Do not weep for me,
This is not my true country, I have lived banish’d from my true
country, I now go back there,
I return to the celestial sphere where every one goes in his turn. 7 I see the battle-fields of the earth, grass grows upon them and
blossoms and corn,
I see the tracks of ancient and modern expeditions. I see the nameless masonries, venerable messages of the
unknown events, heroes, records of the earth. I see the places of the sagas,
I see pine-trees and fir-trees torn by northern blasts,
I see granite bowlders and cliffs, I see green meadows and
lakes,
I see the burial-cairns of Scandinavian warriors,
I see them raised high with stones by the marge of restless
oceans, that the dead men’s spirits when they wearied of
their quiet graves might rise up through the mounds and
gaze on the tossing billows, and be refresh’d by storms,
immensity, liberty, action. I see the steppes of Asia,
I see the tumuli of Mongolia, I see the tents of Kalmucks
and Baskirs,
I see the nomadic tribes with herds of oxen and cows,
I see the table-lands notch’d with ravines, I see the jungles
and deserts,
I see the camel, the wild steed, the bustard, the fat-tail’d
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