Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman

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¹ WHAT ship, puzzled at sea, cons for the true reck-
oning?

Or, coming in, to avoid the bars, and follow the chan-
nel, a perfect pilot needs?

Here, sailor! Here, ship! take aboard the most per-
fect pilot,

Whom, in a little boat, putting off, and rowing, I,
hailing you, offer.

² What place is besieged, and vainly tries to raise the
siege?

Lo! I send to that place a commander, swift, brave,
immortal,

And with him horse and foot—and parks of artillery,

And artillerymen, the deadliest that ever fired gun.

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