1
IN cabind ships, at sea,
The boundless blue on every side expanding,
With whistling winds and music of the wavesthe large imperious wavesIn
such,
Or some lone bark, buoyd on the dense marine,
Where, joyous, full of faith, spreading white sails,
She cleaves the ether, mid the sparkle and the foam of day, or under many a star
at night,
By sailors young and old, haply will I, a reminiscence of the land, be read,
In full rapport at last.
2
Here are our thoughtsvoyagers thoughts,
Here not the land, firm land, alone appears, may then by them be said;
The sky oerarches herewe feel the undulating deck beneath our feet,
We feel the long pulsationebb and flow of endless motion;
The tones of unseen mysterythe vague and vast suggestions of the briny
worldthe liquid-flowing syllables,
The perfume, the faint creaking of the cordage, the melancholy rhythm,
The boundless vista, and the horizon far and dim, are all here,
And this is Oceans poem.
3
Then falter not, O book! fulfil your destiny!
You, not a reminiscence of the land alone,
You too, as a lone bark, cleaving the etherpurposd I know
not whitheryet ever full of faith,
Consort to every ship that sailssail you!
Bear forth to them, folded, my love(Dear mariners! for you I fold it here, in
every leaf;)
Speed on, my Book! spread your white sails, my little bark, athwart the
imperious waves!
Chant onsail onbear oer the boundless blue, from me, to every shore,
This song for mariners and all their ships.
In Cabind Ships at Sea.
written byWalt Whitman
© Walt Whitman