I think heroic deeds were all  
 conceiv'd in the open air, 
and all great poems also;  
I think I could stop here myself,  
and do miracles...  
I think whatever I shall meet  
on the road   
I shall like, and whoever beholds  
me shall like me;  
I think whoever I see  
must be happy. 

	

	
Still here I carry  
my old delicious burdens,  
I carry them, men and women,  
I carry them with me  
wherever I go,  
I swear it is impossible for me  
to get rid of them...