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.
Leaves of Grass
Other works by Walt Whitman...
