| IN cabin'd ships at sea, |
| The boundless blue on every side expanding, |
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With whistling winds and music of the waves, the large imperious
waves, |
| Or some lone bark buoy'd 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. |
| Here are our thoughts, voyagers' thoughts, |
|
Here not the land, firm land, alone appears, may then by them be
said, |
|
The sky o'erarches here, we feel the undulating deck beneath our
feet, |
| We feel the long pulsation, ebb and flow of endless motion, |
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The tones of unseen mystery, the vague and vast suggestions of the
briny world, the liquid-flowing syllables, |
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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 ocean's poem. |
| Then falter not O book, fulfil your destiny, |
| You not a reminiscence of the land alone, |
|
You too as a lone bark cleaving the ether, purpos'd I know not
whither, yet ever full of faith, |
| Consort to every ship that sails, sail you! |
|
Bear forth to them folded my love, (dear mariners, for you I fold
it here in every leaf;) |
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Speed on my book! spread your white sails my little bark athwart
the imperious waves, |
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Chant on, sail on, bear o'er the boundless blue from me to every
sea, |
| This song for mariners and all their ships. |