Flood-tide below me! I see you face to face!
Clouds of the west — sun there half an hour high — I see you also face to face
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes, how curious you are to me!
On the ferry-boats the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are more curious to me than you suppose
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose
I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt
Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd
Just as you are refresh’d by the gladness of the river and the bright flow, I was refresh’d
Just as you stand and lean on the rail, yet hurry with the swift current, I stood yet was hurried
Just as you look on the numberless masts of ships and the thick-stemm’d pipes of steamboats, I look’d
I too many and many a time cross’d the river of old
Look’d toward the lower bay to notice the vessels arriving
Saw their approach, saw aboard those that were near me
Saw the white sails of schooners and sloops, saw the ships at anchor
The sailors at work in the rigging or out astride the spars
The round masts, the swinging motion of the hulls, the slender serpentine pennants
The large and small steamers in motion, the pilots in their pilot-houses
The white wake left by the passage, the quick tremulous whirl of the wheels
Flow on, river! flow with the flood-tide, and ebb with the ebb-tide!
Frolic on, crested and scallop-edg’d waves!
Gorgeous clouds of the sunset! drench with your splendor me, or the men and women generations after me!
Cross from shore to shore, countless crowds of passengers!
Stand up, tall masts of Mannahatta! stand up, beautiful hills of Brooklyn!
Clouds of the west — sun there half an hour high — I see you also face to face
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes, how curious you are to me!
On the ferry-boats the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are more curious to me than you suppose
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose
I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt
Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd
Just as you are refresh’d by the gladness of the river and the bright flow, I was refresh’d
Just as you stand and lean on the rail, yet hurry with the swift current, I stood yet was hurried
Just as you look on the numberless masts of ships and the thick-stemm’d pipes of steamboats, I look’d
I too many and many a time cross’d the river of old
Look’d toward the lower bay to notice the vessels arriving
Saw their approach, saw aboard those that were near me
Saw the white sails of schooners and sloops, saw the ships at anchor
The sailors at work in the rigging or out astride the spars
The round masts, the swinging motion of the hulls, the slender serpentine pennants
The large and small steamers in motion, the pilots in their pilot-houses
The white wake left by the passage, the quick tremulous whirl of the wheels
Flow on, river! flow with the flood-tide, and ebb with the ebb-tide!
Frolic on, crested and scallop-edg’d waves!
Gorgeous clouds of the sunset! drench with your splendor me, or the men and women generations after me!
Cross from shore to shore, countless crowds of passengers!
Stand up, tall masts of Mannahatta! stand up, beautiful hills of Brooklyn!
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