thenewmaryjane

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 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.
-w.w.