1861
1861.
ARM'D year! year of the struggle! No dainty rhymes or sentimental love verses for you,terrible year! Not you as some pale poetling, seated at a desk, lisp-
ing cadenzas piano; But as a strong man, erect, clothed in blue clothes,
advancing, carrying a rifle on your shoulder, With well-gristled body and sunburnt face and hands—
with a knife in the belt at your side, As I heard you shouting loud—your sonorous voice
ringing across the continent; Your masculine voice, O year, as rising amid the great
cities, Amid the men of Manhattan I saw you, as one of the
workmen, the dwellers in Manhattan; Or with large steps crossing the prairies out of Illinois
and Indiana, Rapidly crossing the West with springy gait, and de-
scending the Alleghanies; Or down from the great lakes, or in Pennsylvania, or on
deck along the Ohio river; Or southward along the Tennessee or Cumberland rivers,
or at Chattanooga on the mountain top, Saw I your gait and saw I your sinewy limbs, clothed
in blue, bearing weapons, robust year; Heard your determin'd voice, launch'd forth again and
again; Year that suddenly sang by the mouths of the round
lipp'd cannon, I repeat you, hurrying, crashing, sad, distracted year.