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Date Posted: 14:46:52 04/06/02 Sat
Author: NM
Subject: Re: <i>To be, or not to be, that tis' the question, eh? (NT)
In reply to: Who knows? 's message, "<i>To be, or not to be, that tis' the question, eh? (NT)" on 15:07:17 03/01/02 Fri

I love poetry don't you?

>O captain my captain!ourfearful 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, I Dark Shadow sneak Tigger from Snowy Caverns to the Outlands. Sorry tig, nothing personal. :)
>For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths--for you the
>shores accrowding,
>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, 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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