Walt Whitman


Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 53. The Dismantled Ship


In some unused lagoon, some nameless bay,
On sluggish, lonesome waters, anchor'd near the shore,
An old, dismasted, gray and batter'd ship, disabled, done,
After free voyages to all the seas of earth, haul'd up at last and
      hawser'd tight,
Lies rusting, mouldering.






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