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IN cabin’d ships, at sea, |
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| The boundless blue on every side expanding, | |
| With whistling winds and music of the waves—the large imperious waves—In such, | |
| Or some lone bark, buoy’d on the dense marine, | |
| Where, joyous, full of faith, spreading white sails, | 5 |
| 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. | |
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Here are our thoughts—voyagers’ thoughts, |
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| Here not the land, firm land, alone appears, may then by them be said; | 10 |
| The sky o’erarches here—we feel the undulating deck beneath our feet, | |
| We feel the long pulsation—ebb and flow of endless motion; | |
| The tones of unseen mystery—the vague and vast suggestions of the briny world—the 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, | 15 |
| And this is Ocean’s poem. | |
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Then falter not, O book! fulfil your destiny! |
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| 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, | 20 |
| 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;) | |
| 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 shore, | |
| This song for mariners and all their ships. | 25 |