From Leaves of Grass
, by Walt Whitman
What think you I take my pen
in hand to record?
The battle-ship, perfect-model'd, majestic, that I saw pass the
offing to-day under full sail
The splendors of the past day? or the splendor
of the night
that envelops me?
Or the vaunted glory
and growth of the great city spread
around me? — no;
But merely of two simple men I saw to-day on the pier in the
midst of the crowd, parting the parting of dear friends,
The one to remain hung on the other's neck and passion
While the one to depart tightly prest the one to remain