| 1 
 | 
| The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;l | 
| The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,l | 
| While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:l | 
| But O heart! heart! heart!l | 
| O the bleeding drops of red,l | 
| Where on the deck my Captain lies,l | 
| Fallen cold and dead.l | 
| 
 | 
| 2 
 | 
| Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills;l | 
| For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding;l | 
| For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;l | 
| Here Captain! dear father!l | 
| This arm beneath your head;l | 
| It is some dream that on the deck,l | 
| You've fallen cold and dead.l | 
| 
 | 
| 3 
 | 
| My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;l | 
| The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;l | 
| From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;l | 
| Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!l | 
| But I, with mournful tread,l | 
| Walk the deck my Captain lies,l | 
| Fallen cold and dead.l | 
Walt Whitman
 
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where there is a sign of victority ,death is senseless coz immortality is behind
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