Leaves of Grass (1860)

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Page 242
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24.

LIFT me close to your face till I whisper,
What you are holding is in reality no book, nor part
         of a book,
It is a man, flushed and full-blooded—it is I— So
          long!
We must separate—Here! take from my lips this
         kiss,
Whoever you are, I give it especially to you;
So long —and I hope we shall meet again.
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