Walt Whitman

Primeval my Love for the Woman I Love

PRIMEVAL my love for the woman I love,
  O bride! O wife! more resistless, more enduring than I can tell, the
        thought of you!
  Then separate, as disembodied, the purest born,
  The ethereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation,
  I ascend—I float in the regions of your love, O man,
  O sharer of my roving life.
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