O Doctor, My Doctor.

O DOCTOR! my Doctor! our fearful trip is done;
The TARDIS has weather’d every attack, the prize we sought is won;
London is near, Mum’s calls I hear, the people of London exulting,
While we smile broad and continue on, the TARDIS grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the two of them filled with dread,
For by the Daleks my Doctor lies,
Fallen and possibly dead.


O Doctor! my Doctor! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you have regenerated—a new man full of trills
For your humored sayings and great hair—for you people’s hearts can change;
For you they call, the swaying mass, to seek some peace and will;
Here Doctor! dear Doctor!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
That I will fall cold and dead.


My Doctor does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My Doctor instead feels a wall, its whiteness without pulse nor will;
The TARDIS is anchor’d safe and sound, my voyage closed and done;
Our fearful trip, and the Cybermen’s ship, have lost but yet have one.
Exult, O shores, and call, oh Doctor!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the sands my Doctor stands,
For Bad Wolf Bay is where he lead.

-O Captain! My Captain!, revisited.