Leaves of Grass (1871-72)
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| RECORDERS ages hence! |
| Come, I will take you down underneath this impassive
exterior—I will tell you what to say of me; |
| Publish my name and hang up my picture as that of
the tenderest lover, |
| The friend, the lover's portrait, of whom his friend, his
lover, was fondest, |
| Who was not proud of his songs, but of the measure-
less ocean of love within him—and freely pour'd it forth, |
| Who often walk'd lonesome walks, thinking of his dear
friends, his lovers, |
| Who pensive, away from one he lov'd, often lay sleep-
less and dissatisfied at night, |
)
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| Who knew too well the sick, sick dread lest the one he
lov'd might secretly be indifferent to him, |
| Whose happiest days were far away, through fields, in
woods, on hills, he and another, wandering hand in hand, they twain, apart from other men, |
| Who oft as he saunter'd the streets, curv'd with his
arm the shoulder of his friend—while the arm of his friend rested upon him also. |