The Walt Whitman Archive
Leaves of Grass (1891-92)
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BEHOLD THIS SWARTHY FACE.
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BEHOLD this swarthy face, these gray eyes,
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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,
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We are those two natural and nonchalant persons.
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