Ever the mutable, Ever materials, changing, crumbling, re-cohering, Ever the ateliers, the factories divine, Issuing eidolons.
Do you think matter has cohered together from its diffuse float, and the soil is on the surface, and water runs and vegetation sprouts, For you only, and not for him and her?
For it the nebula cohered to an orb, The long slow strata piled to rest it on, Vast vegetables gave it sustenance, Monstrous sauroids transported it in their mouths and deposited it with care.
Nay, nor the world, nor any living thing, will so cohere.
That the exquisite scheme is for it, and the nebulous float is for it, and the cohering is for it!
The myth of heaven indicates the soul, The soul is always beautiful, it appears more or it appears less, it comes or it lags behind, It comes from its embower’d garden and looks pleasantly on itself and encloses the world, Perfect and clean the genitals previously jetting,and perfect and clean the womb cohering, The head well-grown proportion’d and plumb, and the bowels and joints proportion’d and plumb.
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Language must cohere—it cannot be left loosely to float or to fly away.
Walt Whitman -- An American Primer -- http://www.theatlantic.com/issues/04apr/primer.htm(retrieved 03/26/08)