The world is saddened today to learn of the death of one of its comic heroes. A man tormented by demons few will understand. I can think of no more fitting tribute to him than to remember those students  in 'Dead Poets Society' standing on their desks.

One of my former classmates posted the full poem, "O' Captain my Captain" on my Facebook page last night and it made me cry. Such a perfect tribute to a man we all looked to for laughter and spontaneity. Robin was who we all secretly wanted to be. Uninhibited. Wild and Crazy. Without fear. Or, at least, he appeared that way.

Rest in peace, Robin. We are all standing on our desks for you, crying "O' Captain, my captain." You were, and shall remain, beloved.

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!
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.