WALT WHITMAN

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 ydu the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths for you the shores

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 anchored safe and sound, rs 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.

��JOHN RUSKIN

744. Trust Thou Thy Love

HTRUST thou thy Love : if she be proud, is she not sweet ? ^ Trust thou thy Love : if she be mute, is she not pure ? Lay thou thy soul full in her hands, low at her feet; Fail, Sun and Breath ! yet, for thy peace, She shall endure.

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