As the giants of ocean steam in and go forth.
We trace thy slim island reach up to the north,
Its streets in arrowy distance aloom,
Its marts, its homes, its far off tomb;
The pleasure greens dotting thy vesture of white,
And tower and steeple like spears in the light.
Lift thee, Manhattan, no peer to thy strength,
Energy crystalled in turrets of stone,
Force chained to form thro’ thy breadth and thy length,
The builders’ Gibraltar, the fortress of trade,