'Crossing Brooklyn Ferry' by Walt Whitman

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1
Flood-Tide below me! I see you face to face!
Clouds of the west-sun there half an hour high - I see you also face
to face.

Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes, how curious
you are to me!
On the ferry-boats the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning
home, are more curious to me than you suppose,
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more
to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose.

2
The impalpable sustenance of me from all things at all hours of the
day,
The simple, compact, well-join'd scheme, myself disintegrated, every
one disintegrated yet part of the scheme,
The similitudes of the past and those of the future,
The glories strung like beads on my smallest sights and hearings, on
the walk in the street and the passage over the river,
The current rushing so swiftly and swimming with me far away,
The others that are to follow me, the ties between me and them,
The certainty of others, the life, love, sight, hearing of others.

Others will enter the gates of the ferry and cross from shore to
shore,
Others will watch the run of the flood-tide,
Others will see the shipping of Manhattan north and west, and the
heights of Brooklyn to the south and east,
Others will see the islands large and small;
Fifty years hence, others will see them as they cross, the sun half
an hour high,
A hundred years hence, or ever so many hundred years hence, others
will see them,
Will enjoy the sunset, the pouring-in of the flood-tide, the
falling-back to the sea of the ebb-tide.

3
It avails not, time nor place- distance avails not,
I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many
generations hence,
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt,
Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd,
Just as you are refresh'd by the gladness of the river and the
bright flow, I was refresh'd,
Just as you stand and lean on the rail, yet hurry with the swift
current, I stood yet was hurried,
Just as you look on the numberless masts of ships and the
thick-stemm'd pipes of steamboats, I look'd.

I too many and many a time cross'd the river of old,
Watched the Twelfth-month sea-gulls, saw them high in the air
floating with motionless wings, oscillating their bodies,
Saw how the glistening yellow lit up parts of their bodies and left
the rest in strong shadow,
Saw the slow-wheeling circles and the gradual edging toward the
south,
Saw the reflection of the summer sky in the water,
Had my eyes dazzled by the shimmering track of beams,
Look'd at the fine centrifugal spokes of light round the shape of my
head in the sunlit water,
Look'd on the haze on the hills southward and south-westward,
Look'd on the vapor as it flew in fleeces tinged with violet,
Look'd toward the lower bay to notice the vessels arriving,
Saw their approach, saw aboard those that were near me,
Saw the white sails of schooners and sloops, saw the ships at
anchor,
The sailors at work in the rigging or out astride the spars,
The round masts, the swinging motion of the hulls, the slender
serpentine pennants,
The large and small steamers in motion, the pilots in their
pilothouses,

The white wake left by the passage, the quick tremulous whirl of the
wheels,
The flags of all nations, the falling of them at sunset,
The scallop-edged waves in the twilight, the ladled cups, the
frolic-some crests and glistening,
The stretch afar growing dimmer and dimmer, the gray walls of the
granite storehouses by the docks,
On the river the shadowy group, the big steam-tug closely flank'd on
each side by the barges, the hay-boat, the belated lighter,
On the neighboring shore the fires from the foundry chimneys burning
high and glaringly into the night,
Casting their flicker of black contrasted with wild red and yellow
light over the tops of houses, and down into the clefts of
streets.

4
These and all else were to me the same as they are to you,
I loved well those cities, loved well the stately and rapid river,
The men and women I saw were all near to me,
Others the same-others who look back on me because I look'd forward
to them,
(The time will come, though I stop here to-day and to-night.)

5
What is it then between us?
What is the count of the scores or hundreds of years between us?

Whatever it is, it avails not- distance avails not, and place avails
not,
I too lived, Brooklyn of ample hills was mine,
I too walk'd the streets of Manhattan island, and bathed in the
waters around it,
I too felt the curious abrupt questionings stir within me,
In the day among crowds of people sometimes they came upon me,
In my walks home late at night or as I lay in my bed they came upon
me,
I too had been struck from the float forever held in solution,
I too had receiv'd identity by my body,
That I was I knew was of my body, and what I should be I knew I
should be of my body.

6
It is not upon you alone the dark patches fall,
The dark threw its patches down upon me also,

The best I had done seem'd to me blank and suspicious,
My great thoughts as I supposed them, were they not in reality
meagre?
Nor is it you alone who know what it is to be evil,
I am he who knew what it was to be evil,
I too knitted the old knot of contrariety,
Blabb'd, blush'd, resented, lied, stole, grudg'd,
Had guile, anger, lust, hot wishes I dared not speak,
Was wayward, vain, greedy, shallow, sly, cowardly, malignant,
The wolf, the snake, the hog, not wanting in me.
The cheating look, the frivolous word, the adulterous wish, not
wanting,

Refusals, hates, postponements, meanness, laziness, none of these
wanting,
Was one with the rest, the days and haps of the rest,
Was call'd by my nighest name by clear loud voices of young men as
they saw me approaching or passing,
Felt their arms on my neck as I stood, or the negligent leaning of
their flesh against me as I sat,
Saw many I loved in the street or ferry-boat or public assembly, yet
never told them a word,
Lived the same life with the rest, the same old laughing, gnawing,
sleeping,
Play'd the part that still looks back on the actor or actress,
The same old role, the role that is what we make it, as great as we
like,
Or as small as we like, or both great and small.

7
Closer yet I approach you,
What thought you have of me now, I had as much of you- I laid in my
stores in advance,
I consider'd long and seriously of you before you were born.

Who was to know what should come home to me?
Who knows but I am enjoying this?
Who knows, for all the distance, but I am as good as looking at you
now, for all you cannot see me?

8
Ah, what can ever be more stately and admirable to me than
mast-hemm'd Manhattan?
River and sunset and scallop-edg'd waves of flood-tide?
The sea-gulls oscillating their bodies, the hay-boat in the
twilight, and the belated lighter?

What gods can exceed these that clasp me by the hand, and with
voices I love call me promptly and loudly by my nighest name as
approach?
What is more subtle than this which ties me to the woman or man that
looks in my face?
Which fuses me into you now, and pours my meaning into you?

We understand then do we not?
What I promis'd without mentioning it, have you not accepted?
What the study could not teach-what the preaching could not
accomplish is accomplish'd, is it not?

9
Flow on, river! flow with the flood-tide, and ebb with the ebb-tide!
Frolic on, crested and scallop-edg'd waves!
Gorgeous clouds of the sunset! drench with your splendor me, or the
men and women generations after me!
Cross from shore to shore, countless crowds of passengers!
Stand up, tall masts of Mannahatta! stand up, beautiful hills of
Brooklyn!
Throb, baffled and curious brain! throw out questions and answers!
Suspend here and everywhere, eternal float of solution!
Gaze, loving and thirsting eyes, in the house or street or public
assembly!
Sound out, voices of young men! loudly and musically call me by my
nighest name!
Live, old life! play the part that looks back on the actor or
actress!
Play the old role, the role that is great or small according as one
makes it!
Consider, you who peruse me, whether I may not in unknown ways be
looking upon you;
Be firm, rail over the river, to support those who lean idly, yet
haste with the hasting current;
Fly on, sea-birds! fly sideways, or wheel in large circles high in
the air;
Receive the summer sky, you water, and faithfully hold it till all
downcast eyes have time to take it from you!
Diverge, fine spokes of light, from the shape of my head, or any
one's head, in the sunlit water!
Come on, ships from the lower bay! pass up or down, white-sail'd
schooners, sloops, lighters!
Flaunt away, flags of all nations! be duly lower'd at sunset!
Burn high your fires, foundry chimneys! cast black shadows at
nightfall! cast red and yellow light over the tops of the houses!

Appearances, now or henceforth, indicate what you are,
You necessary film, continue to envelop the soul,
About my body for me, and your body for you, be hung our divinest
aromas,
Thrive, cities-bring your freight, bring your shows, ample and
sufficient rivers,
Expand, being than which none else is perhaps more spiritual,
Keep your places, objects than which none else is more lasting.

You have waited, you always wait, you dumb, beautiful ministers,
We receive you with free sense at last, and are insatiate
henceforward,
Not you any more shall be able to foil us, or withhold yourselves
from us,
We use you, and do not cast you aside-we plant you permanently
within us,
We fathom you not- we love you- there is perfection in you also,
You furnish your parts toward eternity,
Great or small, you furnish your parts toward the soul.

Editor 1 Interpretation

Crossing Brooklyn Ferry: A Timeless Poem by Walt Whitman

"Flood-tide below me! I see you face to face!"

These are the first words that greet us as we embark on a poetic journey across the Brooklyn Ferry, courtesy of Walt Whitman. The poem, which was first published in 1856 as part of the first edition of Leaves of Grass, is a lyrical exploration of the human experience and the interconnectedness of all things. It is a work that invites us to reflect on our connection to the world around us and the ways in which we are all connected to each other.

The Poet as a Beacon of Hope

One of the things that struck me about this poem is the way in which Whitman positions himself as a beacon of hope for his readers. He acknowledges the darkness and uncertainty of the world but reminds us that there is beauty and wonder in it as well. He writes:

"It avails not, time nor place—distance avails not,
I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence,
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt;"

Here, Whitman is emphasizing his connection to his readers, both those who were alive when the poem was written and those who would come after. He is telling us that he understands the feeling of awe and wonder that comes from looking at the natural world and that he is here to share that feeling with us.

The River as a Metaphor for Life

As the title suggests, much of the poem is focused on the act of crossing the Brooklyn Ferry. However, the act of crossing the river takes on a much deeper significance as the poem unfolds. The river becomes a metaphor for life itself. Whitman writes:

"Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt;
Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd;"

Here, Whitman is emphasizing the idea that we are all part of the same river, the same flow of life that connects us all. He sees himself as just one small part of that flow, one individual among many who is connected to the greater whole.

The Passage of Time

Another key theme that runs throughout the poem is the passage of time. Whitman is keenly aware of the fact that everything changes, that the world he is describing in the poem will not be the same world that his readers will experience. He writes:

"It avails not, time nor place—distance avails not,
I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence,
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt;
Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of a crowd;
Just as you are refreshed by the gladness of the river and the bright flow, I was refreshed;"

Here, Whitman is emphasizing the timeless nature of the human experience. He is reminding us that, while the specific details of our lives may be different, the emotions and feelings that we experience are universal and timeless.

Whitman's Style

One of the things that makes Crossing Brooklyn Ferry such a powerful poem is Whitman's unique style of writing. He eschews traditional poetic structures and instead opts for a more free-form style that allows him to explore his ideas and themes in a more fluid and organic way. He uses repetition and anaphora to create a sense of rhythm and momentum, and his use of language is often rich and evocative.

For example, Whitman writes:

"Just as you stand and lean on the rail, yet hurry with the swift current,
I stood yet was hurried,
Just as you look on the numberless masts of ships and the thick-stemmed pipes of steamboats,
I looked."

Here, Whitman is using repetition to create a sense of flow and movement. The repetition of the phrase "just as" emphasizes the idea that he and his readers are connected, that they are experiencing the same things even though they may be separated by time and distance.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Crossing Brooklyn Ferry is a timeless poem that speaks to the universal human experience. Through his lyrical exploration of the river and the act of crossing it, Whitman invites us to reflect on our own connections to the world around us and the ways in which we are all part of the same flow of life. His unique style of writing and his ability to capture the beauty and wonder of the world make this poem a true masterpiece of American literature.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

Crossing Brooklyn Ferry: A Poem of Timeless Connection

Walt Whitman’s Crossing Brooklyn Ferry is a timeless poem that speaks to the human experience of connection and continuity. Written in 1856, the poem is a celebration of the journey across the East River from Manhattan to Brooklyn, and the sense of unity that comes from sharing that experience with others. But it is also a meditation on the passage of time, and the ways in which we are all connected across generations and centuries.

The poem begins with a description of the ferry itself, and the sense of anticipation that comes with boarding it. Whitman writes, “Flood-tide below me! I see you face to face! / Clouds of the west—sun there half an hour high—I see you also face to face.” Here, he is setting the scene for the journey, and creating a sense of immediacy and intimacy with the reader. We are invited to share in his experience, to see what he sees and feel what he feels.

As the ferry begins to move, Whitman’s attention turns to the river itself, and the way it connects the past and the present. He writes, “It avails not, time nor place—distance avails not, / I am with you, you men and women of a generation, or ever so many generations hence.” This is a powerful statement of connection, and a reminder that we are all part of a larger human family. No matter how much time passes, we are all linked by our experiences and our shared humanity.

Throughout the poem, Whitman uses the river as a metaphor for the passage of time. He writes, “The current rushing so swiftly and swimming with me far away, / The others that are to follow me, the ties between me and them, / The certainty of others, the life, love, sight, hearing of others.” Here, he is acknowledging that he is just one small part of a larger story, and that his experiences are part of a larger tapestry of human history.

At the same time, Whitman is also celebrating the present moment, and the joy of being alive. He writes, “The sun and stars that float in the open air, / The apple-shaped earth and we upon it, surely the drift of them is something grand.” This is a reminder that even as we are connected to the past and the future, we must also appreciate the beauty and wonder of the present moment.

One of the most striking aspects of Crossing Brooklyn Ferry is its use of repetition. Throughout the poem, Whitman returns again and again to certain phrases and images, creating a sense of rhythm and continuity. For example, he writes, “It is not upon you alone the dark patches fall, / The dark threw its patches down upon me also.” This repetition creates a sense of unity and shared experience, and reinforces the idea that we are all connected in some way.

Another important theme in the poem is the idea of change and transformation. Whitman writes, “What is it then between us? / What is the count of the scores or hundreds of years between us?” Here, he is acknowledging that time has passed since the ferry was first built, and that the world has changed in countless ways. But he is also suggesting that some things remain constant, such as the human desire for connection and understanding.

In many ways, Crossing Brooklyn Ferry is a celebration of the power of poetry itself. Whitman is using language to connect with his readers across time and space, and to create a sense of shared experience and understanding. He writes, “It is not you alone who know what it is to be evil, / I am he who knew what it was to be evil.” This is a reminder that poetry has the power to transcend time and place, and to create a sense of empathy and connection between people who may never meet in person.

In conclusion, Crossing Brooklyn Ferry is a powerful and timeless poem that speaks to the human experience of connection and continuity. Through his use of language and imagery, Whitman creates a sense of shared experience and understanding that transcends time and place. He reminds us that we are all part of a larger human family, and that our experiences are part of a larger tapestry of human history. But he also celebrates the present moment, and the joy of being alive. This is a poem that speaks to the heart of what it means to be human, and it is a testament to the power of poetry to connect us all.

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