Poetry Chamber

O Captain! My Captain!

by Walt Whitman

1O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,

2The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,

3The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

4While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

5But O heart! heart! heart!

6O the bleeding drops of red,

7Where on the deck my Captain lies,

8Fallen cold and dead.

10O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

11Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,

12For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,

13For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

14Here Captain! dear father!

15This arm beneath your head!

16It is some dream that on the deck,

17You’ve fallen cold and dead.

19My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

20My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,

21The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,

22From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

23Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

24But I with mournful tread,

25Walk the deck my Captain lies,

26Fallen cold and dead.

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