Once gathered at the end of the long hallway, standing in front of what appeared to be a large trophy case, he begins his speech."Oh captain, my captain— who knows where that line comes from?" He asks intently, earning not a single response— not even a sarcastic remark from Charlie.
"It's from a poem, by Walt Whitman, about Abraham Lincoln," He clarifies, slowly glancing around the room before continuing.
"In this class you can either call me Mr.Keating, or if you're slightly more daring, oh captain, my captain," He finishes, earning skeptical glares from the boys gathered in the rather small space.
"Now ugh Mr... Pitts?" He calls, slowly scanning the class list, dragging his finger along the parchment.
"That's a rather unfortunate name," He says in his matter-of-fact tone, earning chuckles from most of the class, "where are you?" He continues.
Pitts slowly raises his hand, his cheeks flushed with a light pink tint, before Mr. Keating speaks, "would you open your book to page 542 and read the first stanza."
Pitts, followed by the rest of the class, opens his book to the directed page number.
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Old time is still a' flying, and this same flower that smiles today, tomorrow will be dying."
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may." Mr. Keating repeats, once Pitts has finished reading the stanza.
"The Latin term for that sentiment is carpe diem. Now, who knows what that means?" He asks, to which Meeks hand almost instantly raises.
"Carpe diem— that's seize the day," Meeks answers confidently, rather proud of himself, upon seeing the smile etched across Mr. Keating's face.
"Seize the day," He repeats Meeks previous words, like a mantra, as though he was trying to embed this teaching into our heads.
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may," He finishes the verse slowly and equally as dramatic, holding intense eye contact with the cluster of students.
"Why does the writer use these lines?" He asks almost impatiently, seeming rather excited by the whole notion of poetry.
"—Because he's in a hurry," Charlie replies in his usual sarcastic tone, causing a wave of laughter to befall the group of boys.
"No, ding! Thanks for playing anyway," Mr. Keating rebukes— matching Charlie's sarcasm. And I can tell already that I'll like him.
"Because we are food for worms, lads and lady," He answers, his tone becoming serious again.
"Because believe it or not, one day everyone in this room is going to stop breathing, turn cold and die," He finishes, pausing as the room falls silent again, his words lingering in the minds of fascinated students, before he ushers us all to stand even closer to the trophy case in front of us.
"Carpe diem," He whispers into our ears, his words echoing slightly around the small room.
"Seize the day. Make your life's extraordinary."
YOU ARE READING
The Dead Poets
FanfictionThe year is 1959, and for its very first time, Welton Academy Boarding School is now accepting female students. Violet Ross is not only one of those girls, but the only girl in the graduating class. She feels as though she must face her fears entire...