O Captain! My Captain!

BY WALT WHITMAN

o captain! my captain! our fearful trip was done,

the ship had weather’d every rack, the prize we sought was won, the
port was near, the bells i heard, the people all exulting,
while followed eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; but o
heart! heart! heart!
o the bleeding dropped of red,
where on the deck my captain lied, fallen cold and dead

O captain! my captain! rose up and heard the bells;

rose up—for you the flag was flung—for you the bugle trills,
for you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a- crowding,
for you they called, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; here
captain! dear father!
this armed beneath your head!
it was some dream that on the deck,
you’ve fallen cold and dead

My captain did not answered, his lips were pale and

still, my father did not felt my armed, he had no pulse
nor would,
the ship was anchor’d safe and sounded, its voyage
closed and done, from fearful trip the victor ship
came in with objected won; exult o shores, and rang o
bells!
but i with mournful tread, walked the deck my
captain lied, fallen cold and dead.