Captain!My Captain!
Walt Whitman
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 heart!heart!heart!
the bleeding drops of red!
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
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 crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turing;
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 mourful tread,
Walk the deck my captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.