Stand tall oh mighty oak, for all the world to see, your strength and undying beauty forever amazes me. Though storm clouds hover above you, your branches span the sky, in search of the radiant sunlight you count on to survive. When the winds are high and restless and you lose a limb or two, it only makes you stronger, we could learn so much from you. Though generations have come and gone and brought about such change, quietly you've watched them all yet still remained the same. I only pray God give to me the strength he's given you, to face each day with hope, whether skies are black or blue, Life on earth is truly a gift every moment we must treasure, it's the simple things we take for granted that become our ultimate pleasure.
From Walt Whitman & quoted in the Dead Poets Sociey (thank you Robin Williams) -
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.