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!
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O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.


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O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
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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,
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You’ve fallen cold and dead.


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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;
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Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.


CASABLANCA

The flagship had taken fire. The flames were breakin' out from below. The deck was ablaze. The men who were left alive made haste to launch a small boat. The leaped into it, and rowed swiftly away. Any other place was safer now than on board of the burning ship. There was powder in the hold. But the captain's son. Young Casablanca, still stood upon the deck. The flames were almost all around him now but he would not stir from his post. His father had bidden him stand there, and he had been taught always to obey. He trusted in his father's word, and believed that when the right time came, he would tell him to go. He saw the men leap into the boat. He heard them call to him to come. He shook his head. "When father bids me, I will go", he said. And now, the flames were leaping up the masts. The sails were all ablaze. The fire blew hot upon his cheek. It scorched his hair. It was before him, behind all around him. "Oh Father," he cried, "may I not go now? The men have all left the ship. Is it not the time that we, too, should leave it?" He did not know that his father was lying in the burning cabin below, that a cannon ball had struck him at the very beginning of the fight. He listened to hear his answer. "Speak louder, Father," he cried, "I cannot hear what you say". Above the roaring of the flames, above the crashing of the falling spars, above the booming of the guns, he fancied that his father's voice came faintly to him through the scorching air. "I am here, Father. Speak once again," he gasped. A great flash of light fills the air; clouds of smoke shoot quickly upward to the sky and - BOOM! Oh, what a terrific sound. Louder than thunder, louder than the roar of all guns. The air quivers: the see itself trembles; the sky is black. The blazing ship is seen no more. There was powder in the hold.

THE ERL - KING

Oh who rides by night through the woodland so wild? It is the fond father embracing his child; And close the boy nestles within his loved arm, To hold himself fast and to keep himself warm.
“Oh Father, see yonder! See yonder!” he says; “My boy, upon what do you fearfully gaze?” “Oh, it is the Erl-King with his crown and his shroud.” “No, my son, it it but a dark wreath of the cloud.”
“Oh come and go with me, you lovely child; By many a gay sport shall your time be beguiled; My mother keeps for you full many a fair toy, And many a fine flower shall she pluck for my boy.”
“Oh Father, my Father, and did you not hear The Erl-King whisper so low in my ear?” “Be still, my heart’s darling – my child, be at ease; It was but the wild blast as it sang through the trees.”
“Oh, will you go with me, you lovely boy? My daughter shall tend you with care and with joy; Shall bear you so lightly through wet and through wild, And press you, and kiss you, and sing to my child.”
“Oh Father, my Father, and saw you not plain The Erl-King’s pale daughter glide past thro’ the rain?”
“Oh yes, my loved treasure, I knew it full soon; It as the gray willow that danced to the moon.”
“Oh come and go with me, no longer delay, Or else, silly child, I will drag you away.”
“Oh Father, Oh Father! Now, now, keep your hold, The Erl-King has seized me – his grasp is so cold.”
Sore trembled the father; he spurred thro’ the wild, Clasping to his bosom his shuddering child; He reached his dwelling in doubt and in dread, But, clasped to his bosom, the infant was dead!