Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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WHEN I peruse the conquer'd fame of heroes, and the
victories of mighty generals, I do not envy the
generals,

Nor the President in his Presidency, nor the rich in his
great house;

But when I hear of the brotherhood of lovers, how it
was with them,

How through life, through dangers, odium, unchanging,
long and long,

Through youth, and through middle and old age, how
unfaltering, how affectionate and faithful they
were,

Then I am pensive—I hastily walk away, fill'd with the
bitterest envy.

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