I.
Through the room the light is fading,
And the faint sounds that startle the night,
Are the voices of unknown men,
Who are passing far away.

II.
Ah to be alone!
Our bodies tossed upon these shores.
The sand clings to us.
These dusky plums hang heavy.

III.
Come, let us gather the wild flowers,
And let us drink their sweet and fragrant rays.
Give me your hand among the lilies,
And let me kiss your lips when the night falls.

• From “Leaves of Grass”

• Walt Whitman