IN cabin'd ships at sea，

    The boundless¹ blue on every side expanding，

    With whistling winds and music of the waves， the large

    imperious waves，

    Or some lone² bark buoy'd on the dense³ marine⁴，

    Where joyous⁵ full of faith， spreading white sails，

    She cleaves⁶ the ether mid⁷ the sparkle and the foam⁸ 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 rapport⁹ 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 pulsation¹⁰， ebb¹¹ and flow of endless motion.

    The tones of unseen mystery， the vague and vast suggestions of

    the briny¹² world， the liquid-flowing syllables¹³，

    The perfume， the faint creaking of the cordage， the melancholy¹⁴

    rhythm，

    The boundless vista¹⁵ and the horizon far and dim are all here，

    And this is ocean's poem.

    Then falter¹⁶ not O book， fulfil your destiny，

    You not a reminiscence of the land alone，

    You too as a lone bark cleaving¹⁷ the ether， purpos'd I know

    not whither， yet ever full of faith，

    Consort¹⁸ to every ship that sails， sail you！

    Bear forth¹⁹ to them folded my love， （dear mariners²⁰， 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 on， sail on， bear o'er the boundless blue from me to

    every sea，

    This song for mariners and all their ships.

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