Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds--and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of--wheeled and soared
        and swung
High in the sunlit silence, hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along,
And flung my eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

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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!
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.

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As Ravens and Night-owls their Voices betray
So Asses are certainly known when they bray.
And Spight of the Noise and bustle they've made
Mankind will believe that a Spade is a Spade.
That Bullies and Bankrupts, and Men without Store
Dull wretches that have not one Virtue or More,
The Pests of the Country, whose Practice has been
To flatter the Governor, and Lie to the Queen,
Have right to no favour in a Well-govern'd State
But to Swing in an Halter, or peep through a Grate.

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The earth is full of anger,
The seas are dark with wrath,
The Nations in their harness
Go up against our path:
Ere yet we loose the legions --
Ere yet we draw the blade,
Jehovah of the Thunders,
Lord God of Battles, aid!

High lust and froward bearing,
Proud heart, rebellious brow --
Deaf ear and soul uncaring,
We seek Thy mercy now!
The sinner that forswore Thee,
The fool that passed Thee by,
Our times are known before Thee --
Lord, grant us strength to die!

For those who kneel beside us
At altars not Thine own,
Who lack the lights that guide us,
Lord, let their faith atone.
If wrong we did to call them,
By honour bound they came;
Let not Thy Wrath befall them,
But deal to us the blame.

From panic, pride, and terror,
Revenge that knows no rein,
Light haste and lawless error,
Protect us yet again.
Cloak Thou our undeserving,
Make firm the shuddering breath,
In silence and unswerving
To taste Thy lesser death!

Ah, Mary pierced with sorrow,
Remember, reach and save
The soul that comes to-morrow
Before the God that gave!
Since each was born of woman,
For each at utter need --
True comrade and true foeman --
Madonna, intercede!

E'en now their vanguard gathers,
E'en now we face the fray --
As Thou didst help our fathers,
Help Thou our host to-day!
Fulfilled of signs and wonders,
In life, in death made clear --
Jehovah of the Thunders,
Lord God of Battles, hear!

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Don't let that horse
Away Above A Harborful
Number 20
From Pictures of the Gone World: Number 8
Sometime During Eternity
The World Is a Beautiful Place
I Am Waiting
Underwear
Populist Manifesto No. 1
An Elegy on the Death of Kenneth Patchen
Bird With Two Right Wings
Baseball Canto

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