O Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trips is done;
The ship has weather'd every track, 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 vesel grim and daring.
But o heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
where on the deck my Catain 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 ma**, their eager faces turning.
Here Captain"! Dear father! The arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck, you've fallen cold and dead.
But o heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
where on the deck my Catain lies,
fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has pulse or 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.
But o heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
where on the deck my Catain lies,
fallen cold and dead.