Behold this Swarthy Face

 BEHOLD this swarthy face—these gray eyes, 
This beard—the white wool, unclipt upon my neck, 
My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, without charm; 
Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, and ever at parting, kisses me lightly on the lips with
 robust
 love, 
And I, on the crossing of the street, or on the ship’s deck, give a kiss in return;
We observe that salute of American comrades, land and sea, 
We are those two natural and nonchalant persons.

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