The Dresser.

Part of the cluster DRUM-TAPS.

THE DRESSER.

1

¹AN old man bending, I come, among new faces, Years looking backward, resuming, in answer to chil-
dren, Come tell us, old man, as from young men and maidens
that love me; Years hence of these scenes, of these furious passions,
these chances, Of unsurpass'd heroes, (was one side so brave? the
other was equally brave;) Now be witness again—paint the mightiest armies of
earth; Of those armies so rapid, so wondrous, what saw you to
tell us? What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious
panics, Of hard-fought engagements, or sieges tremendous,
what deepest remains?

2

²O maidens and young men I love, and that love me, What you ask of my days, those the strangest and
sudden your talking recalls; Soldier alert I arrive, after a long march, cover'd with
sweat and dust; In the nick of time I come, plunge in the fight, loudly
shout in the rush of successful charge; Enter the captur'd works….yet lo! like a swift
running river, they fade; Pass and are gone, they fade—I dwell not on soldiers'
perils or soldiers' joys; (Both I remember well—many the hardships, few the
joys, yet I was content.) ³But in silence, in dreams' projections, While the world of gain and appearance and mirth goes
on, [ begin page 286 ]

ppp.00270.288.jpg So soon what is over forgotten, and waves wash the
imprints off the sand, In nature's reverie sad, with hinged knees returning, I
enter the doors—(while for you up there, Whoever you are, follow me without noise, and be of
strong heart.)

3

⁴Bearing the bandages, water and sponge, Straight and swift to my wounded I go, Where they lie on the ground, after the battle brought
in; Where their priceless blood reddens the grass, the
ground; Or to the rows of the hospital tent, or under the roof'd
hospital; To the long rows of cots, up and down, each side, I
return; To each and all, one after another, I draw near—not
one do I miss; An attendant follows, holding a tray—he carries a refuse
pail, Soon to be fill'd with clotted rags and blood, emptied,
and fill'd again. ⁵I onward go, I stop, With hinged knees and steady hand, to dress wounds; I am firm with each—the pangs are sharp, yet unavoid-
able; One turns to me his appealing eyes—(poor boy! I
never knew you, Yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for
you, if that would save you.)

4

⁶On, on I go—(open, doors of time! open, hospital
doors!) The crush'd head I dress, (poor crazed hand, tear not
the bandage away;) The neck of the cavalry-man, with the bullet through
and through, I examine; [ begin page 287 ]

ppp.00270.289.jpg Hard the breathing rattles, quite glazed already the
eye, yet life struggles hard; (Come, sweet death! be persuaded, O beautiful death! In mercy come quickly.) ⁷From the stump of the arm, the amputated hand, I undo the clotted lint, remove the slough, wash off the
matter and blood; Back on his pillow the soldier bends, with curv'd neck,
and side-falling head; His eyes are closed, his face is pale, (he dares not look
on the bloody stump, And has not yet look'd on it.) ⁸I dress a wound in the side, deep, deep; But a day or two more—for see, the frame all wasted
already, and sinking, And the yellow-blue countenance see. ⁹I dress the perforated shoulder, the foot with the bul-
let wound, Cleanse the one with a gnawing and putrid gangrene,
so sickening, so offensive, While the attendant stands behind aside me, holding
the tray and pail. ¹⁰I am faithful, I do not give out; The fractur'd thigh, the knee, the wound in the abdo-
men; These and more I dress with impassive hand—(yet deep
in my breast a fire, a burning flame.)

5

¹¹Thus in silence, in dreams' projections, Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the
hospitals; The hurt and wounded I pacify with soothing hand, I sit by the restless all the dark night—some are so
young; Some suffer so much—I recall the experience sweet and
sad; (Many a soldier's loving arms about this neck have
cross'd and rested, Many a soldier's kiss dwells on these bearded lips.)

Part of the cluster DRUM-TAPS.