City Of Orgies
CITY of orgies, walks and joys!
City whom that I have lived and sung in your midst will one day make
Not the pageants of you--not your shifting tableaux, your spectacles,
Not the interminable rows of your houses--nor the ships at the
Nor the processions in the streets, nor the bright windows, with
goods in them;
Nor to converse with learn'd persons, or bear my share in the soiree
Not those--but, as I pass, O Manhattan! your frequent and swift flash
of eyes offering me love,
Offering response to my own--these repay me;
Lovers, continual lovers, only repay me.
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Comments about this poem (City Of Orgies by Walt Whitman )
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