Wednesday 20 August 2014

Robin Williams

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 lie,
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's 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 or will,
The is anchor's safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with th 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

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