Today my sisters and I did our history class and the topic was Abraham Lincoln's assassination. As a part of our class we read a poem which was written shortly after Lincoln's death by a man called Walt Whitman. I really liked it as I believe it has a good rhythm. It is an abstract poem - Lincoln is the Captain and his ship is the United States.
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;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
Is it 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 walk with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
0 comments:
Post a Comment