ABOARD, at a ship’s helm, 
A young steersman, steering with care. 
  
A bell through fog on a sea-coast dolefully ringing, 
An ocean-bell—O a warning bell, rock’d by the waves. 
  
O you give good notice indeed, you bell by the sea-reefs ringing,
Ringing, ringing, to warn the ship from its wreck-place. 
  
For, as on the alert, O steersman, you mind the bell’s admonition, 
The bows turn,—the freighted ship, tacking, speeds away under her gray sails, 
The beautiful and noble ship, with all her precious wealth, speeds away gaily and safe. 
  
But O the ship, the immortal ship! O ship aboard the ship!
O ship of the body—ship of the soul—voyaging, voyaging, voyaging.

Added: on September 1st, 2005 at 1:08 AM | Viewed: 4198 times | Comments (1)

Poet: Walt Whitman
Poem: 4. Aboard at a Ship’s Helm.
Volume: Leaves of Grass
- 19. Sea-Shore Memories
Year: Published/Written in 1900
Poem of the Day: Jul 11 2007

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