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the faint creaking of the cordage

“Here are our thoughts, voyager’s thoughts,
Here not the land, firm land, alone appears, may then by them be said,

The sky o’eraches 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 her,

And this is ocean’s poem.” 

(In Cabin’d Ships at Sea is part of Whitman’s epic Leaves of Grass collection, one of the foundation works of modern American literature. His highly emotive, free form style of poetry broke away from the traditional English models and was rich in unusual symbols and imagery.)