Information

Dead Poets Society has a minion!

The Poet, the Invisible Man

Dead Poets Society
Legacy Name: Dead Poets Society

The

Glacier Lain
Owner:

Shakespeare

Age: 15 years, 1 month, 1 week

Born: November 1st, 2009

Adopted: 15 years, 1 month, 1 week ago (Legacy)

Adopted: November 1st, 2009 (Legacy)

Pet Spotlight Winner
January 25th, 2014

Statistics

Level: 78
Strength: 191
Defense: 166
Speed: 140
Health: 140
HP: 140/140
Intelligence: 126
Books Read: 119
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Lead Librarian

Dead Poets Society

"So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends."

The curtain went down on the stage. Moments later, it rose again with the cast of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Neil Perry stepped forward as his name was announced as the actor of Robin Goodfellow.

His eyes scanned the audience looking for his friends and Professor Keating, the teacher who had inspired him so much. His heart stopped, however, when he noticed a face he wasn't expecting: his father's.

Neil stumbled backwards into the line. His father was here. The one person who wasn't supposed to see him. The one person who didn't approve. The one person who thought he was wasting his time whenever he wasn't studying and preparing for his future in medicine. Though Professor Keating had suggested he try to make his father understand how he felt, Neil couldn't do it. He forged his father's signature on the sheet and got the part.

After all this time, after Keating had introduced them to the Dead Poets Society, Neil had felt so much freedom to pursue the things he was interested in, instead of the studies his father wanted him to follow. But now that he had found his calling, something he truly enjoyed, it was all going to be all taken away.

This would be his first and last show.

Credits

Profile template by

O Captain! My Captain!

By Walt Whitman

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered 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!
The 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.