Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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¹ AMONG the men and women, the multitude,

I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine
signs,

Acknowledging none else—not parent, wife, husband,
brother, child, any nearer than I am;

Some are baffled—But that one is not—that one knows
me.

² Ah, lover and perfect equal!

I meant that you should discover me so, by my faint
indirections;

And I, when I meet you, mean to discover you by the
like in you.

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