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Songs from Vagabondia
by
Bliss Carman and Richard Hovey
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THE
BATHER
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I SAW
him go down to the water to bathe;
He stood naked upon the bank.
His breast was like a white cloud in the heaven,
that catches the sun;
It swelled with the sharp joy of the air.
His legs rose with the spring and curve of young
birches;
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The
hollow of his back caught the blue shadows:
With his head thrown up to the lips of the wind;
And the curls of his forehead astir with the wind.
I would that I were a man, they are so beautiful;
Their bodies are like the bows of the Indians;
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They
have the spring and the grace of bows of hickory.
I know that women are beautiful, and that I am
beautiful;
But the beauty of a man is so lithe and alive
and triumphant,
Swift as the flight of a swallow and sure as the
pounce of the eagle.
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