Back to Index

Joy, Shipmate, Joy!

by Walt Whitman, 1892

Joy, shipmate, Joy!
(Pleas'd to my soul at death I cry,)
Our life is closed, our life begins,
The long, long anchorage we leave,
The ship is clear at last, she leaps!
She swiftly courses from the shore,
Joy, shipmate, joy.

Published in Leaves of Grass
Tags:

Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.