BEHOLD this swarthy face--these gray eyes, <br /> This beard--the white wool, unclipt upon my neck, <br /> My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, without charm; <br /> Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, and ever at parting, kisses me lightly <br /> on the lips with robust love, <br /> And I, on the crossing of the street, or on the ship's deck, give a <br /> kiss in return; <br /> We observe that salute of American comrades, land and sea, <br /> We are those two natural and nonchalant persons.<br /><br />Walt Whitman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/behold-this-swarthy-face/
