Walt Whitman (1819–1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900.
215. Aboard at a Ships Helm
A
A young steersman, steering with care.
An ocean-bell—O a warning bell, rock’d by the waves.
Ringing, ringing, to warn the ship from its wreck-place.
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.
O ship of the body—ship of the soul—voyaging, voyaging, voyaging.