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Leaves of Grass (1871-72)
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Behold this Swarthy Face.
| BEHOLD this swarthy face—these gray eyes, |
| This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my neck, |
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My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, without
charm; |
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Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, and ever at parting,
kisses me lightly on the lips with robust love, |
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And I, on the crossing of the street, or on the ship's
deck, give a kiss in return; |
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We observe that salute of American comrades, land and
sea, |
| We are those two natural and nonchalant persons. |