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COME my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready, Have you your pistols?
O my breast aches with tender love for all!
Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your
I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies, as I myself do,
name, the Past, And in the name of these States and in your and my name, the Present time.
COME my tan-faced children, Follow well in order, get your weapons ready, Have you your pistols?
O my breast aches with tender love for all!
Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your
I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies, as I myself do,
name, the Past, And in the name of these States and in your and my name, the Present time.
I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies—as I myself do;
WHO learns my lesson complete?
as every one is immortal; I know it is wonderful—but my eye-sight is equally wonderful, and how I was
And that my Soul embraces you this hour, and we affect each other without ever seeing each other, and
Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem; I whisper with my lips close to your
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!
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
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!"
Let me have my own way; Let others promulge the laws—I will make no account of the laws; Let others praise
I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies—as I myself do;
Let me have my own way, Let others promulge the laws, I will make no account of the laws, Let others
I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies, as I myself do,
Let me have my own way, Let others promulge the laws, I will make no account of the laws, Let others
I call to the world to distrust the accounts of my friends, but listen to my enemies, as I myself do,
of the poem (not including this line) were revised and published in The American in October 1880 as My
to the President at his levee, / And he says Good day my brother, to Cudge that hoes in the sugarfield
of the poem (not including this line) were revised and published in The American in October 1880 as "My