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- To a Stranger
- by Walt 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 recall’d 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.
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