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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Walt Whitman
Walt Whitman
Born on May 31, 1819, Walt Whitman is the author of Leaves of Grass...
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FURTHER READING
Poems About Funerals
In Memoriam, [To Sleep I give my powers away]
by Lord Alfred Tennyson
A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London
by Dylan Thomas
Age and Death
by Emma Lazarus
Because I could not stop for Death (712)
by Emily Dickinson
Bomb Crater Sky
by Lam Thi My Da
By ways remote and distant waters sped (101)
by Gaius Valerius Catullus
Driven across many nations (101)
by Gaius Valerius Catullus
For the Union Dead
by Robert Lowell
Fugue of Death
by Paul Celan
In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae
Night Funeral in Harlem
by Langston Hughes
Question
by May Swenson
Song ["When I am dead, my dearest"]
by Christina Rossetti
Suddenly
by Sharon Olds
The Earth Opens and Welcomes You
by Abdellatif Laâbi
The World as Seen Through a Glass of Ice Water
by Dobby Gibson
Untitled [This is what was bequeathed us]
by Gregory Orr
What Came to Me
by Jane Kenyon
Related Prose
Dead Poets Society
Rose, Where Did You Get That Red? [excerpt]
by Kenneth Koch
Groundbreaking Book: Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman (1855)
Poetic Form: Elegy
Lesson Plans
And the winner is…: Poetry and Film
Other Elegies
Allegorical Baraka
by Anne Waldman
Another Elegy
by Jericho Brown
By ways remote and distant waters sped (101)
by Gaius Valerius Catullus
Driven across many nations (101)
by Gaius Valerius Catullus
Dusk
by Margo Berdeshevsky
Elegy for my husband
by Toi Derricotte
Elegy in X Parts [Kafka said, A book]
by Matt Rasmussen
Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard
by Thomas Gray
Etta's Elegy
by Maureen Seaton
For the Union Dead
by Robert Lowell
Friend,
by Jean Valentine
Fugue of Death
by Paul Celan
In Memory of W. B. Yeats
by W. H. Auden
Lycidas
by John Milton
Making Apple Sauce with my Dead Grandmother
by Bianca Stone
Suddenly
by Sharon Olds
Tigers
by Melissa Ginsburg
To An Athlete Dying Young
by A. E. Housman
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O Captain! My Captain!

 
by Walt Whitman

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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