I only am he who places over you no master, owner, better, God, beyond what waits intrinsically in yourself. None but would subordinate you, I only am he who will never consent to subordinate you,

None but has found you imperfect, I only find no imperfection in you, None has done justice to you, you have not done justice to yourself

None has understood you, but I understand you, I will leave all and come and make the hymns of you, I should have blabb'd nothing but you, I should have chanted nothing but you. I should have made my way straight to you long ago, I have loved many women and men, but I love none better than you. I whisper with my lips close to your ear, Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, They stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops, work, farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating, drinking, suffering, dying. Your true soul and body appear before me, I fear these supposed realities are to melt from under your feet and handsĮven now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners, troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you, Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of dreams,

What part of speech is the word they