Walt Whitman

Book V. Calamus: City of Orgies

City of orgies, walks and joys!
  City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst will one day make
        you illustrious,
  Not the pageants of you—not your shifting tableaux, your spectacles,
        repay me;
  Not the interminable rows of your houses—nor the ships at the
        wharves,
  Nor the processions in the streets, nor the bright windows, with
        goods in them;
  Nor to converse with learn’d persons, or bear my share in the soiree
        or feast;
  Not those—but, as I pass, O Manhattan! your frequent and swift flash
        of eyes offering me love,
  Offering response to my own—these repay me;
  Lovers, continual lovers, only repay me.
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