Well received upon publication, the poem was Whitman's first to be anthologized and the most popular during his lifetime. This is no doubt referencing the assassination of Abraham Lincoln and Whitman’s sorrow for the death of his idol. ' O Captain My Captain ' is an extended metaphor poem written by Walt Whitman in 1865 about the death of U.S. The repetition of heart in line five calls attention to the poet’s vast grief and heartache because the Captain has bled and lies still, cold, and dead (lines six through eight). Many lost their lives in the American Civil War, and although the prize that was sought was won, the hearts still ache amidst the exultation of the people. The following line expresses a mood of jubilation of the Union winning the war as it says “the people all exulting ” however, the next line swiftly shifts the mood when it talks of the grimness of the ship, and the darker side of the war. The first line establishes the poem’s mood, one of relief that the Civil War has ended, “our fearful trip is done.” The next line references the ship, America, and how it has “weathered every rack”, meaning America has braved the tough storm of the Civil War, and “the prize we sought”, the preservation of the Union, “is won”. The fallen captain in the poem refers to Abraham Lincoln, captain of the ship that is the United States of America. O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. The poem is classified as an elegy or mourning poem. O Captain! My Captain! is a metaphor poem written in 1865 by Walt Whitman, about the death of American president Abraham Lincoln. The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,įrom fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, 1 O CAPTAIN my Captain our fearful trip is done The ship has weatherd every rack, the prize we sought is won The port is near, the bells I hear.
Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills,įor you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding,įor you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring lesson - Anthology from ANATOMY Human Anat at Murrah High School. The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,