In the Year 80 of the States,[3] My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air, Born here of parents born here, from parents the same, and their parents the same, I, now thirty-six years old, in perfect health begin, Hoping to cease not till death. Creeds and schools in abeyance, (Retiring back a while, sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten.) I harbour, for good or bad—I permit to speak, at every hazard— Nature now without check, with original energy.
