O Captain! My Captain!
The poem "O Captain! My Captain!" was written in 1865 by Walt Whitman (1819-1892). He was an American poet, essayist and journalist. He was also very patriotic and wrote many poems in which he was encouraging people to fight for what was right, but also about the prominence of America. Similarly, he was admiring Abraham Lincoln for his political standpoint of universal equality.
The captain in the poem is referred to Abraham Lincoln who is the captain of the ship (United States of America). The first part of the poem describes the victory of winning the Civil War, but, by the end of the poem, a tragedy has happened: "my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead" meaning that President has died. The second part of the poem gives tribute to successes of the President that has made a lot of things for the goodness of the country. "Rise up for you the flag is flung for you the bugle trills" shows the tribute given to the President. The third and last part of the poem shows the end of a great President "My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still".
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 the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain 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 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.
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 mournful tread,
Walk the deck my captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
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