O Captain! My Captain!
O Captain! My Captain!
by Walt Whitman
I
O captain! my captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the stead 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.
II
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 ribboned wreaths, for you the shores a-crowding:
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning.
O captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
III
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 anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done:
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won!
Exult, O abores! and ring, O bells!
But I, with silent tread,
Walk the spot my captain lies
Fallen cold and dead.
To my Passompe also those who love “Dead Poets Society”. Remembering the hard times, you have finally passed during your thesis work (alhamdulillah…). This Walt Whitman’s poem was also being quoted at “Little Women” by Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888), in one dialog between Josephine March and Friedrich Bhaer.
