âââ Â Our fearful trip is done, The ship has weatherâd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exalting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â But O heart! My heart! Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â O the bleeding drops of red, Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Where on the deck my Captain lies, Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Fallen cold and dead.
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