O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
by: Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
- O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
- The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
- The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
- While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
- But O heart! heart! heart!
- O the bleeding drops of red,
- Where on the deck my Captain lies,
- Fallen cold and dead.
- O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
- Rise up -- for you the flag is flung -- for you the bugle trills,
- For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths -- for you the shores a-crowding,
- For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
- Here Captain! dear father!
- This arm beneath your head!
- It is some dream that on the deck,
- You've fallen cold and dead.
- My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, - The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
- From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
- Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
- But I with mournful tread,
- Walk the deck my Captain lies,
- Fallen cold and dead.
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