Sunday, July 02, 2006

O Captain! My Captain!

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; 20
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Walt Whitman


At 1:26 AM, Blogger Gayathri Chandrashekar said...

The soldier spirit of Whitman has found expression in this poem.

At 7:02 AM, Blogger abhay k said...

I reaaly enjoyed reading this poem ! It elevates my spirit. Thank you for sharing this great work of Walt Whitman with us.
thank for your condolence message!

At 7:08 AM, Blogger MellowDrama said...

I love this poem and I saw your sonnets posting...gimme the dark lady sonnets anyday! Esp the one where he demeans his lady but he loves her anyway! I have some poetry on my site too - my fav THE LAST's almost like drama isn;t it?!


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