O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weathered 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 ribboned wreaths
—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear mother!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, her lips are pale and still;
My mother does not feel my arm, she has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored 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.
Gene Woodfin Steussy. September 15, 1921 to June 5, 2012
Beautiful poem, Ed.
I remember her reading that poem to me at 601 Hosier Drive many, many years ago.
Dear Ed, Helen, Nic, Cally, and Chris–
My heart is with you all right now. Your mom was one hell of a person, and the world has lost a sure, clear voice in her passing. You all are a living testament to her, and to your dad. Look on each other with love and with pride, and know that your parents left this world sure that they had done some damn fine work.
Yours,
Nic
So sorry to hear of the passing of your Mom. I still have clear memories of her and your Dad at the house in New Castle. Good times, they always made me feel welcome. Loved the recent pic you posted of all 5 of you, hold tight to each other.