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27.
O LOVE!
O dying—always dying!
O the burials of me, past and present!
O me, while I stride ahead, material, visible, imperi-
ous as ever!
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O me, what I was for years, now dead, (I lament not
—I am content;),
O to disengage myself from those corpses of me,
which I turn and look at, where I cast them!
To pass on, (O living! always living!) and leave the
corpses behind!