Daily Whitman

face in a crowd

Among the Multitude

  Among the men and women the multitude,
  I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs,
  Acknowledging none else, not parent, wife, husband, brother, child,
      any nearer than I am,
  Some are baffled, but that one is not—that one knows me.

  Ah lover and perfect equal,
  I meant that you should discover me so by faint indirections,
  And I when I meet you mean to discover you by the like in you.


Posted on 12/08/2014, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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