Song of the Day - 4th July

Today is American Independence Day so it is fortuitous that I have just completed work on the latest video of a performance by one of my lovely Beta choirs which serves to honour two great Americans on this day.

Today's Song of the Day is my setting of a famous poem by Walt Whitman (1819-1892), "O Captain! My Captain!", written in 1865, in the wake of President Lincoln's assassination in April of that year.  Although he never met Lincoln, Whitman felt a connection to him and was greatly moved by Lincoln's assassination.

Many people "of a certain age" may, like me, have been first introduced to it in the film "Dead Poets Society" starring the incredible, inimitable, indescribably funny Robin Williams (can you tell I'm a fan?) who you can see AI-imagined as a sea captain in the first photo of this video.

Uncharacteristic of Whitman's poetry, the poem was Whitman's most popular during his lifetime, and the only one to be anthologized before his death. In early 1866, a reviewer in the Boston Commonwealth wrote that the poem was the most moving dirge for Lincoln ever written.

This song has been beautifully brought to life by the 70-strong choir of Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh, and was performed in Greyfriars Kirk, Edinburgh on May 11th. My grateful thanks go to all choir members and in particular Matt Brown, the Director of Music at the University for his wonderful direction and interpretation.

O Captain! My Captain!

by Walt Whitman

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.