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 | Leaves of grass. |  |
NOW LIFT ME CLOSE.
Now 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, flush'd and full-blooded — it is I — So long!
— We must separate awhile — 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.
What you are holding is in reality no book, nor part of a book;
It is a man, flush'd and full-blooded — it is I — So long!
— We must separate awhile — 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.
FINIS.
| Leaves of grass. | |