O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
|O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered 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.
Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
My captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
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