Walt Whitman - Joy, Shipmate, Joy!

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.

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Saturday, April 9, 2011 - 16:08

Poesia Consagrada :

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Walt Whitman

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