Treasure Island

Walt Whitman

(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892 / New York / United States)

Here, Sailor



WHAT ship, puzzled at sea, cons for the true reckoning?
Or, coming in, to avoid the bars, and follow the channel, a perfect
pilot needs?
Here, sailor! Here, ship! take aboard the most perfect pilot,
Whom, in a little boat, putting off, and rowing, I, hailing you,
offer.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: sea

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Here, Sailor by Walt Whitman )

Enter the verification code :

  • Rich Miner (12/9/2005 11:00:00 AM)

    I think that this poem is about Lincoln just as O captain My captain was. In this one Whitman is campaining Lincoln for presidency offering the nation a perfect pilot as it heads for troubled times. Also Whitman presents Lincoln as a very humble leader with the discription of him putting off and rowing. (Report) Reply

  • Brian Scott (12/9/2005 11:00:00 AM)

    I think that this poem is talking about abraham lincoln. I think WALT WHITMAN expressing very good ideas about Abraham Lincoln. He view Abraham lincoln as The perfEct CaPTain to lead america into civil war. (Report) Reply

  • Sara Bridges (12/9/2005 10:55:00 AM)

    i think this poem is well written i think it is about a sailor speaking to the captain which is Lincoln (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

Poem of the Day

poet George Gordon Byron

So we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart still be as loving,
And the moon still be as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

 

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]