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.