O Captain! My Captain!
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!
The 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.
—Walt Whitman
Category: Uncategorized
Well done Marko.
http://gayconservative.org/2012/12/13/by-thine-own-hand/
By Thine own hand the gift was given
Of wealth, and hope of highest heaven;
But, fool at heart, Thy grace was spurned,
And from my Father’s house I turned.
O, hear my plaint, I cry to Thee;
Be pitiful, and pardon me,
For I have sinned; O, give me grace
To seek in penitence Thy face.
Yea, I repent in anguish low;
Give me again Thy love to know;
And if a servant’s place remain,
Take me in mercy back again.
Goosebumps…
I’m a grown man and now you have gone and made me cry.
A common misquote attributed to Thoreau says it all-
“Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.”
Very fitting, thank you.
Heartbroken. No words, other than this. Suicide is NEVER the answer. Reach out. Ask for help. People will respond.