Dead Poet's Poems

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."

- Dead Poet's Society

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O Captain! My Captain!

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.

- Walt Whitman

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To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

Old Time is still a-flying;

And this same flower that smiles today,

To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun,

The higher he's a-getting;

The sooner will his race be run,

And nearer heòs to setting.

That age is best, which is the first,

When youth and blood are warmer;

But being spent, the worse, and worst

Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,

And while ye may, go marry;

For having lost but once your prime,

You may for ever tarry.

- Robert Herrick

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O Me! O Life!

O ME O life!...of the questions of these recurring:

Of the endless trains of the faithless-- of cities fill'd with the foolish;....

What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here-- that life exists, and identity;

That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

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Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams

And I'll show you a happy man

- Tennyson

But only in their dreams can men be truly free

It was always thus and always thus will be.

- Keating

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I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately,

I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life,

To put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die

Discover that I had not lived.

- Thoreau

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The Prophet

Teach me to Love? go teach thyself more wit;

I chief Professor am of it....

The God of Love, if such a thing there be,

May learn to love from Me.

He who does boast that he has been

In every Heart since Adamòs sin,

I'll lay my Life, nay Mistress on't that's more;

I teach him thing he never knew before;

- Cowley

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Ulysses

...Come, my friends,

`Tis not too late to seek a newer world...

for my purpose holds

To sail beyond the sunset,...

and tho'

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

-Tennyson

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Most men live lives of quiet desperation. - Thoreau

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Dare to strike out and find new ground.

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I sound my barbaric YAWP over the rooftops of the word.. - Whitman

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The Road Not Taken

...Two roads diverged in a wood

And I took the one less traveled by

And that made all the difference.

- Frost

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Shall I compare thee to a summeròs day

Thou art more lovely and more temperate

-Shakespeare

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She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

All that's best of dark and bright

Melt in her aspect and her eyes:

- Byron

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A Midsummer Nightòs Dream

If we shadows have offended,

Think but this -- and all is mended--

That you have but slumber'd here

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream,

Gentles, do not reprehend;

If you pardon, we will mend.

And, as I am an honest Puck,

If we have unearned luck

Now to escape the serpent's tongue,

We will make amends ere long;

Else the Puck a liar call:

So, good night unto you all,

Give me your hand, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.