O Captain My Captain (Walt Whitman)

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1

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. 

2

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. 

3

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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