The large and small steamers in motion, the pilots in their pilot-houses,
The white wake left by the passage, the quick tremulous whirl of the wheels.
The flags of all nations, the falling of them at sun-set,
The scallop-edged waves in the twilight, the ladled cups, the frolicsome crests and glistening.
The stretch afar growing dimmer and dimmer, the gray walls of the granite store-houses by the docks.
On the river the shadowy group, the big steam-tug closely flanked 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.

9. These, and all else, were to me the same as they are to you,
I project myself a moment to tell you — also I return.

10. I loved well those cities,
I 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 looked forward to them,
(The time will come, though I stop here to-day and to-night.)