Leaves of Grass (1881-82)

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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
The friend the lover's portrait, of whom his friend his lover was
Who was not proud of his songs, but of the measureless ocean of
         love within him, and freely pour'd it forth,
Who often walk'd lonesome walks thinking of his dear friends, his
Who pensive away from one he lov'd often lay sleepless and dissat-
         isfied at night,
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 shoul
         der of his friend, while the arm of his friend rested upon
         him also.
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