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Poem: “To A Stranger” by Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman

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American Literature – Children Books –  American Poetry – Walt WhitmanPoems by Walt WhitmanWalt Whitman
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To A Stranger


Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you;
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking (it comes to me, as of a
        dream).
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you.
All is recalled as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste,
        matured;
You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl with me;
I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has become not yours only,
        nor left my body mine only;
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass—you take of
        my beard, breast, hands in return;
I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you when I sit alone, or wake at
        night alone;
I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you again;
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Walt_Whitman,_1940

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American Literature – Children Books –  American Poetry – Walt WhitmanPoems by Walt WhitmanWalt Whitman


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