o captain! my captain! our fearful trip is done,
the ship has ht is ,
rim and daring;
but o heart! heart! heart!
o the bleeding drops of red,
is flung—for you the bugle trills,
for you bouquets and ribbon'd ,
for you they call, the s 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 anse closed and done,
from fearful trip the victor ship comes in o bells!
but i ainst the foulest crime in history knoe,
igantic superb,
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