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 | Leaves of grass. |  |
1
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! Leave you not the little spot, Where on the deck my captain lies. Fallen cold and dead.
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! Leave you not the little spot, Where on the deck my captain lies. Fallen cold and dead.
| Leaves of grass. | |