A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught, <br /> Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove, <br /> late of a winter night--And I unremark'd seated in a corner; <br /> Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and <br /> seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand; <br /> A long while, amid the noises of coming and going--of drinking and <br /> oath and smutty jest, <br /> There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, <br /> perhaps not a word.<br /><br />Walt Whitman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-glimpse/
