O Captain! my our fearful trip is done The ship has weather’d every rack the prize we sought won port near bells I hear people all exulting While follow eyes steady keel vessel grim and daring But heart! bleeding drops of red Where on deck Captain lies Fallen cold dead. rise up hear bells Rise up—for you flag flung—for bugle trills For bouquets ribbon’d wreaths—for shores a-crowding they call swaying mass their eager faces turning Here dear father! This arm beneath your head! It some dream that deck You’ve fallen My does not answer his lips are pale still father feel arm he no pulse nor will anchor’d safe sound its voyage closed From victor comes in with object won Exult shores ring bells! mournful tread Walk