America

BY WALT WHITMAN

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Centre of equal daughters, equal sons,

All, all alike endear’d, grown, ungrown, young or old,

Strong, ample, fair, enduring, capable, rich,

Perennial with the Earth, with Freedom, Law and Love,

A grand, sane, towering, seated Mother,

Chair’d in the adamant of Time.

A Glimpse

BY WALT WHITMAN

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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 unremark’d seated in a corner, 

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Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand, 

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A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest, 

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There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.