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Rh Who is he that would become my follower? Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections?
 * Are you he?

The way is suspicious—the result slow, uncertain,
 * may-be destructive;

You would have to give up all else—I alone would
 * expect to be your God, sole and exclusive,

Your novitiate would even then be long and exhausting, The whole past theory of your life, and all conformity
 * to the lives around you, would have to be abandoned;

Therefore release me now, before troubling yourself
 * any further—Let go your hand from my
 * shoulders,

Put me down, and depart on your way.

Or else, only by stealth, in some wood, for trial, Or back of a rock, in the open air, (For in any roofed room of a house I emerge not—
 * nor in company,

And in libraries I lie as one dumb, a gawk, or unborn,
 * or dead,)

But just possibly with you on a high hill—first
 * watching lest any person, for miles around,
 * approach unawares,

Or possibly with you sailing at sea, or on the beach of
 * the sea, or some quiet island,

Here to put your lips upon mine I permit you, With the comrade's long-dwelling kiss, or the new
 * husband's kiss,

For I am the new husband, and I am the comrade.