O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!

[Written in memory of President Lincoln, to whom the poem refers as the captain of the ship of State.]

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 0 heart! heart! heart!

            0 the bleeding drops of red,

            Where on the deck my Captain lies,

 Fallen cold and dead.

0 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:

            Hear 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 me, his lips are pale and still,

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will.

The ship is anchored 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.

                                               Walt Whitman