Commentary
This is Walt Whitman's well-known homage to the fallen Civil War President, Abraham Lincoln. It deserves space in any left history blog. For an excellent musical rendition of this poem (and the inspiration for placing the poem here) listen to Carolyn Hester's "Carolyn Hester At Town Hall" recording from 1965.
O Captain! My Captain!
Walt Whitman
1
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! 5
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
2
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills; 10
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, 15
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
3
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; 20
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
This is Walt Whitman's well-known homage to the fallen Civil War President, Abraham Lincoln. It deserves space in any left history blog. For an excellent musical rendition of this poem (and the inspiration for placing the poem here) listen to Carolyn Hester's "Carolyn Hester At Town Hall" recording from 1965.
O Captain! My Captain!
Walt Whitman
1
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! 5
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
2
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills; 10
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, 15
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
3
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; 20
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Note On Lincoln's Birthday
ReplyDeleteOkay I will show my age a little here. When I was in elementary school in Massachusetts in the 1950’s we used to, as a matter of course, have Lincoln’s Birthday off from school. Somehow this celebration got combined with the then separately celebrated Washington’s Birthday (which usually fell in February vacation week) and the result is this amorphous President’s Day thing. I would argue, without detracting from Washington’s earlier revolutionary merits that Lincoln as slave emancipator is entitled to his own celebratory day more than once every one hundred years or so. I suspect trickery of some sort.
While we are on the subject of childhood memories I also recall telling some distance cousin from Kentucky that we had Lincoln’s Birthday off and expected that she would be jealous. To the contrary she stated that no self-respecting Southerner would pay honor to that man. At least that was the sense of her words, and more importantly, her look. Apparently, the Civil War at least at the plebeian level was NOT over. Did anyone else have that day off? Was it was “celebrated” in the South?
Note On Lincoln's Birthday
ReplyDeleteOkay I will show my age a little here. When I was in elementary school in Massachusetts in the 1950’s we used to, as a matter of course, have Lincoln’s Birthday off from school. Somehow this celebration got combined with the then separately celebrated Washington’s Birthday (which usually fell in February vacation week) and the result is this amorphous President’s Day thing. I would argue, without detracting from Washington’s earlier revolutionary merits that Lincoln as slave emancipator is entitled to his own celebratory day more than once every one hundred years or so. I suspect trickery of some sort.
While we are on the subject of childhood memories I also recall telling some distance cousin from Kentucky that we had Lincoln’s Birthday off and expected that she would be jealous. To the contrary she stated that no self-respecting Southerner would pay honor to that man. At least that was the sense of her words, and more importantly, her look. Apparently, the Civil War at least at the plebeian level was NOT over. Did anyone else have that day off? Was it was “celebrated” in the South?