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O Captain! My Captain!

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;
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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I’m off the subject of doll clothes today to honor Robin Williams.

“O Captain! My Captain!” is a theme of Dead Poet’s Society. The poem was originally written by Walt Whitman about Abraham Lincoln.

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I’ve been absent from my blog due to personal stuff that required some minor surgery. No big deal at all. I’ve just been a little tired. I appreciate my blog readers; please don’t give up on me. I’ll return shortly with more doll clothes.

angel moon