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Captain!My Captain!

  Walt Whitman

  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 heart!heart!heart!

  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;

  Rise up -for you the flag is flung -for you the bugle trills,

  For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths-for you the shores crowding,

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

  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 mourful tread,

  Walk the deck my captain lies,

  Fallen cold and dead.

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