O Captain, my Captain

Today of course is the 50th anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.  To mark this day our opening prayer was Walt Whitman's poem "O Captain, My Captain."  The poem, of course, was written after Abraham Lincoln's assassination but I thought it was fitting for the occasion.  Plus, the junior English classes watch "Dead Poet's Society" every year and this poem plays a prominent role at the end of the film.

I only read part of the poem but here it is in full:

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;

O captain! dear father!

This 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.