O Captain! My Captain! - Walt Whitman

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.  
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.  
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.

Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
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