Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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WHAT think you I take my pen in hand to record?

The battle-ship, perfect-model'd, majestic, that I saw
pass the offing to-day under full sail?

The splendors of the past day? Or the splendor of the
night that envelops me?

Or the vaunted glory and growth of the great city
spread around me?—No;

But I record of two simple men I saw to-day, on the
pier, in the midst of the crowd, parting the part-
ing of dear friends;

The one to remain hung on the other's neck, and pas-
sionately kiss'd him,

While the one to depart, tightly prest the one to
remain in his arms.

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