Poem by Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. Fancies at Navesink. 6. Proudly the Flood Comes In

Proudly the flood comes in, shouting, foaming, advancing,
Long it holds at the high, with bosom broad outswelling,
All throbs, dilates—the farms, woods, streets of cities—workmen at work,
Mainsails, topsails, jibs, appear in the offing—steamers' pennants
      of smoke—and under the forenoon sun,
Freighted with human lives, gaily the outward bound, gaily the
      inward bound,
Flaunting from many a spar the flag I love.

1. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 56. Old Age's Lambent Peaks
2. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 13. Out from Behind This Mask [To Confront a Portrait]
3. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. Fancies at Navesink. 1. The Pilot in the Mist
4. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 32. Life
5. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 40. The Voice of the Rain

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