From the recording The Poet Tree

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This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best,
(I sing the body electric; I celebrate myself and sing myself; O Captain, my Captain,
Oh me, oh life)
Night, sleep, death and the stars.