Sounds of the Winter
Sounds of the winter too, / Sunshine upon the mountains--many a distant strain
Now Finale to the Shore
❦
Now finale to the shore,
Now land and life finale and farewell,
Now Voyager depart, (much, much for thee is yet in store,)
Often enough hast thou adventur'd o'er the seas,
Cautiously cruising, studying the charts,
Duly again to port and hawser's tie returning;
But now obey thy cherish'd secret wish,
Embrace thy friends, leave all in order,
To port and hawser's tie no more returning,
Depart upon thy endless cruise old Sailor.
More poems by Walt Whitman
I Hear America Singing
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, / Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
By That Long Scan of Waves
By that long scan of waves, myself call'd back, resumed upon myself, / In every crest some undulating light or shade--some retrospect,
The Ship Starting
Lo, the unbounded sea, / On its breast a ship starting, spreading all sails, carrying even