When I heard at the close of the day
how my name had been received
with plaudits in the capitol,
still it was not a happy night for me that followed,

And else when I caroused,
or when my plans were accomplished,
still I was not happy,

But the day when I rose at dawn

from the bed of perfect health,
refreshed, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn,

When I saw the full moon in the west
grow pale and disappear in the morning light,

When I wandered alone over the beach,
and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters,
and saw the sun rise,

And when I thought how my dear friend my lover
was on his way coming,

O then I was happy,

O then each breath tasted sweeter,
and all that day my food nourished me more,
and the beautiful day passed well,

And the next came with equal joy,
and with the next at evening came my friend,

And that night while all was still
I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores,

I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands
as directed to me whispering to congratulate me,

For the one I love most lay sleeping by me
under the same cover in the cool night,

In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams
his face was inclined toward me,

And his arm lay lightly around my breast
and that night I was happy.

Song of the Open Road

(abridged)

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune,
I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more,
need nothing,
Done with complaints, libraries, criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
* * *
Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten,
and the book on the shelf unopened!
Let the tools remain in the workshop!
let the money remain unearned!
Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher!
Let the preacher preach in his pulpit!
let the lawyer plead in the court,
and the judge expound the law.

Camerado, I give you my hand!
I give you my love more precious than money,
I give you myself before preaching or law;
Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me?
Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?

Walt Whitman (1819-1892) is often thought of as a gay poet, though he is too complex a character to fit neatly into any category. In fact, there is only a small portion of his work that seems to show a gay orientation (mostly in the collections called Calamus and Drum-Taps).
When asked whether his poetry had any homoerotic content, he denied it completely and claimed that his sexuality was "normal"...

Source: http://www.lobo-solo.com/poetry.html

Go to Whitman's bio page.