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Leaves of Grass.

Others traverse the Zuyder Zee, or the Scheld,
Others add to the exits and entrances at Sandy Hook,
Others to the comers and goers at Gibraltar, or the
Dardanelles,
Others sternly push their way through the northern
winter-packs
Others descend or ascend the Obi or the Lena,
Others the Niger or the Congo—others the Indus,
the Burampooter and Cambodia,
Others wait at the wharves of Manahatta, steamed up,
ready to start,
Wait, swift and swarthy, in the ports of Australia,
Wait at Liverpool, Glasgow, Dublin, Marseilles, Lisbon,
Naples, Hamburg, Bremen, Bourdeaux, the
Hague, Copenhagen,
Wait at Valparaiso, Rio Janeiro, Panama,
Wait at their moorings at Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore,
Charleston, New Orleans, Galveston, San
Francisco.

11.I see the tracks of the rail-roads of the earth,
I see them welding State to State, city to city, through
North America;
I see them in Great Britain, I see them in Europe,
I see them in Asia and in Africa.

12.I see the electric telegraphs of the earth,
I see the filaments of the news of the wars, deaths,
losses, gains, passions, of my race.

13.I see the long river-stripes of the earth,
I see where the Mississippi flows—I see where the
Columbia flows,