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Here it is copied from [the] volume before us:— O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! O Captain! my Captain!
Leave you not the little spot, 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
But I with mournful tread Walk the spot my Captain lies, Compare with this, for poetic or pathetic feeling
earth, she cried—I charge you, lose not my sons!
d; And you trees, down in your roots, to bequeath to all future trees, My dead absorb—my young mens
coffin that slowly passes, I give you my sprig of lilac.
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone?
And what shall my perfume be, for the grave of him I love?
"Song of my Cid" is an epic poem of the mid-12th century and the earliest surviving work of Spanish literature
My other item relates to one of whose merits as an author opinions differ widely.
"My days I sing, and the lands, with interstice I knew of hapless war.
My days I sing, and lands Lands —with interstice I knew of hapless war War .
Inflating my throat—you, divine average!
Open mouth of my , uttering gladness, Eyes of my , seeing perfection, Natural life of me, faithfully
"One doubt nauseous undulating like a snake, crawl'd on the ground before me, Continually preceding my
and near, (rousing, even in dreams, a devilish exultation, and all the old mad joy, in the depths of my
When last in the dooryard the lilacs bloomed [sic]," "Chanting the Square Deific," and "As I lay with my
Phantoms welcome, divine and tender, Invisible to the rest, henceforth become my companions; Follow me
Perfume therefore my chant, O Love! immortal Love!
For that we live, my brethren—that is the mission of Poets.
the sisters Death and Might, incessantly softly wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world. … For my
where he lies, white-faced and still in the coffin—I draw near; I bend down and touch lightly with my