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Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain,(says my grandmother's father;) We have
my Captain!
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! 1 O CAPTAIN! my captain!
Leave you not the little spot, Where on the deck my captain lies.
Fallen cold and dead. 2 O captain! my captain!
Ere, departing, fade from my eyes your forests of bayonets; Spirit of gloomiest fears and doubts, (yet
steps keep time: —Spirit of hours I knew, all hectic red one day, but pale as death next day; Touch my
mouth, ere you depart—press my lips close!
Let them scorch and blister out of my chants, when you are gone; Let them identify you to the future
We closed with him—the yards entangled—the can- non cannon touch'd; My captain lash'd fast with his own
Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cries
Only three guns are in use; One is directed by the captain himself against the ene- my's enemy's main-mast
Serene stands the little captain; He is not hurried—his voice is neither high nor low; His eyes give
The black ship, mail'd with iron, her mighty guns in her turrets—but the pluck of the captain and engineers
O Manhattan, my own, my peerless! O strongest you in the hour of danger, in crisis!
VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night: When you, my son and my comrade, dropt at my side that day
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans, passing to burial!
heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, My heart gives you love.
WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long, And my head on the pillow rests
Ere, departing, fade from my eyes your forests of bayo- nets bayonets ; Spirit of gloomiest fears and
steps keep time: —Spirit of hours I knew, all hectic red one day, but pale as death next day; Touch my
mouth, ere you depart—press my lips close!
Let them scorch and blister out of my chants, when you are gone; Let them identify you to the future,
Ere departing fade from my eyes your forests of bayonets; Spirit of gloomiest fears and doubts, (yet
steps keep time; Spirit of hours I knew, all hectic red one day, but pale as death next day, Touch my
mouth ere you depart, press my lips close, Leave me your pulses of rage—bequeath them to me—fill me
with currents convulsive, Let them scorch and blister out of my chants when you are gone, Let them identify
WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOORYARD BLOOM'D . . . 255 O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN . . . . . . . . 262 HUSH'D BE
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! O CAPTAIN! my Captain!
O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!
my Captain!
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse
with bends and chutes, And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri, The
My limbs, my veins dilate, my theme is clear at last, Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing
VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night; When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day
WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long, And my head on the pillow rests
Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!
with bends and chutes, And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of Missouri, The
My limbs, my veins dilate, my theme is clear at last, Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing
VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night; When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day
WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long, And my head on the pillow rests
Ah my silvery beauty—ah my woolly white and crimson! Ah to sing the song of you, my matron mighty!
Ere departing fade from my eyes your forests of bayonets; Spirit of gloomiest fears and doubts, (yet
steps keep time; Spirit of hours I knew, all hectic red one day, but pale as death next day, Touch my
mouth ere you depart, press my lips close, Leave me your pulses of rage—bequeath them to me—fill me
with currents convulsive, Let them scorch and blister out of my chants when you are gone, Let them identify
WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOORYARD BLOOM'D . . . 255 O CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN . . . . . . . . 262 HUSH'D BE
O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! O CAPTAIN! my Captain!
O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain!
my Captain!
or "To the Leaven'd Soil they Trod," Or "Captain! My Captain!"