 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. | |||||||||
| 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; | |||||||||
| Here 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. |
Christian truth, fruit and power. A mixture of research, Bible, stories,testimonies and fun.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
A Poem On Lincoln's Death
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