As the Greek’s Signal Flame
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As the Greek’s signal flame, by antique records told,
Rose from the hill-top, like applause and glory,
Welcoming in fame some special veteran, hero,
With rosy tinge reddening the land he’d served,
So I aloft from Mannahatta’s ship-fringed shore,
Lift high a kindled brand for thee, Old Poet.
| from Leaves of Grass: BOOK XXXIV. SANDS AT SEVENTY by Walt Whitman | |
| The Dead Emperor | The Dismantled Ship 
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