A Glimpse: Walt Whitman

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A Glimpse

BY WALT WHITMAN

A glimpse through an interstice caught,


Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night,
and I unremarkd seated in a corner,
Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near,
that he may hold me by the hand,
A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.

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