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O Captain! My Captain!

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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 bleeeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

But O heart! heart! heart!
O bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

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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 the boquets and ribbon’d wreaths--

for you the shores a-crowding;

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

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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;

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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.