To A Stranger

________________________________________________
Title:     To A Stranger
Author: Walt Whitman [More Titles by Whitman]

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you;

You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking (it comes to me, as of a dream).

I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you.

All is recalled as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured;

You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me;

I ate with you, and slept with you--your body has become not yours only, nor left my body mine only;

You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass--you take of my beard, breast, hands in return;

I am not to speak to you--I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at night alone;

I am to wait--I do not doubt I am to meet you again;

I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

[The end]
Walt Whitman's poem: To A Stranger

________________________________________________



GO TO TOP OF SCREEN