English poem
_Among The Multitude._
by Walt Whitman
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 my faint indirections; And I, when I meet you, mean to discover you by the like in you.
LEAVES OF GRASS.