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

a mix for the boy from the boeshane peninsula, for the time agent, for the fixed point in time. for the captain.

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