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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I AM THE WAY' by ALICE MEYNELL ON LOOKING INTO GOLDING'S OVID by STEVE SCAFIDI JR. THE VOW OF WASHINGTON by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE LEAPING POLL by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. ON MICHAEL ANGELO by WASHINGTON ALLSTON THE WATER-SPRINGS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE WANDERING JEW by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER |