Cluster: Drum-Taps. (1891)

FIRST O SONGS FOR A PRELUDE.

To the drum-taps prompt, The young men falling in and arming, The mechanics arming, (the trowel, the jack-plane, the black- 
 smith's hammer, tost aside with precipitation,) The lawyer leaving his office and arming, the judge leaving the  
 court, The driver deserting his wagon in the street, jumping down, 
 throwing the reins abruptly down on the horses' backs, The salesman leaving the store, the boss, book-keeper, porter, all  
 leaving; Squads gather everywhere by common consent and arm, The new recruits, even boys, the old men show them how to wear  
 their accoutrements, they buckle the straps carefully, Outdoors arming, indoors arming, the flash of the musket-barrels, The white tents cluster in camps, the arm'd sentries around, the  
 sunrise cannon and again at sunset, Arm'd regiments arrive every day, pass through the city, and  
 embark from the wharves, (How good they look as they tramp down to the river, sweaty, 
 with their guns on their shoulders! How I love them! how I could hug them, with their brown faces  
 and their clothes and knapsacks cover'd with dust!) The blood of the city up—arm'd! arm'd! the cry everywhere, The flags flung out from the steeples of churches and from all the  
 public buildings and stores, The tearful parting, the mother kisses her son, the son kisses his  
 mother, (Loth is the mother to part, yet not a word does she speak to  
 detain him,) The tumultuous escort, the ranks of policemen preceding, clearing  
 the way, The unpent enthusiasm, the wild cheers of the crowd for their  
 favorites, The artillery, the silent cannons bright as gold, drawn along, 
 rumble lightly over the stones, (Silent cannons, soon to cease your silence, Soon unlimber'd to begin the red business;) All the mutter of preparation, all the determin'd arming, The hospital service, the lint, bandages and medicines, The women volunteering for nurses, the work begun for in earnest, 
 no mere parade now;   [ begin page 221 ]ppp.00707.229.jpg War! an arm'd race is advancing! the welcome for battle, no  
 turning away; War! be it weeks, months, or years, an arm'd race is advancing  
 to welcome it.

EIGHTEEN SIXTY-ONE.

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 lisping 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 descending 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,   [ begin page 222 ]ppp.00707.230.jpg 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.

BEAT! BEAT! DRUMS!

FROM PAUMANOK STARTING I FLY LIKE A BIRD.

FROM Paumanok starting I fly like a bird, Around and around to soar to sing the idea of all, To the north betaking myself to sing there arctic songs,   [ begin page 223 ]ppp.00707.231.jpg To Kanada till I absorb Kanada in myself, to Michigan then, To Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, to sing their songs, (they are  
 inimitable;) Then to Ohio and Indiana to sing theirs, to Missouri and Kansas  
 and Arkansas to sing theirs, To Tennessee and Kentucky, to the Carolinas and Georgia to sing  
 theirs, To Texas and so along up toward California, to roam accepted  
 everywhere; To sing first, (to the tap of the war-drum if need be,) The idea of all, of the Western world one and inseparable, And then the song of each member of these States.

SONG OF THE BANNER AT DAYBREAK.

Pennant.

Come up here, bard, bard, Come up here, soul, soul,   [ begin page 224 ]ppp.00707.232.jpg Come up here, dear little child, To fly in the clouds and winds with me, and play with the measure- 
 less light.

Poet.

I hear and see not strips of cloth alone, I hear the tramp of armies, I hear the challenging sentry, I hear the jubilant shouts of millions of men, I hear Liberty! I hear the drums beat and the trumpets blowing, I myself move abroad swift-rising flying then, I use the wings of the land-bird and use the wings of the sea-bird,  
 and look down as from a height, I do not deny the precious results of peace, I see populous cities  
 with wealth incalculable, I see numberless farms, I see the farmers working in their fields  
 or barns, I see mechanics working, I see buildings everywhere founded,  
 going up, or finish'd, I see trains of cars swiftly speeding along railroad tracks drawn  
 by the locomotives, I see the stores, depots, of Boston, Baltimore, Charleston, New  
 Orleans, I see far in the West the immense area of grain, I dwell awhile  
 hovering, I pass to the lumber forests of the North, and again to the South- 
 ern plantation, and again to California; Sweeping the whole I see the countless profit, the busy gatherings,  
 earn'd wages, See the Identity formed out of thirty-eight spacious and haughty  
 States, (and many more to come,) See forts on the shores of harbors, see ships sailing in and out; Then over all, (aye! aye!) my little and lengthen'd pennant  
 shaped like a sword,   [ begin page 226 ]ppp.00707.234.jpg Runs swiftly up indicating war and defiance—and now the hal- 
 yards have rais'd it, Side of my banner broad and blue, side of my starry banner, Discarding peace over all the sea and land.

Banner.

Demons and death then I sing, Put in all, aye all will I, sword-shaped pennant for war,   [ begin page 227 ]ppp.00707.235.jpg And a pleasure new and ecstatic, and the prattled yearning of  
 children, Blent with the sounds of the peaceful land and the liquid wash  
 of the sea, And the black ships fighting on the sea envelop'd in smoke, And the icy cool of the far, far north, with rustling cedars and  
 pines, And the whirr of drums and the sound of soldiers marching, and  
 the hot sun shining south, And the beach-waves combing over the beach on my Eastern  
 shore, and my Western shore the same, And all between those shores, and my ever running Mississippi  
 with bends and chutes, And my Illinois fields, and my Kansas fields, and my fields of  
 Missouri, The Continent, devoting the whole identity without reserving an  
 atom, Pour in! whelm that which asks, which sings, with all and the  
 yield of all, Fusing and holding, claiming, devouring the whole, No more with tender lip, nor musical labial sound, But out of the night emerging for good, our voice persuasive no  
 more, Croaking like crows here in the wind.

Poet.

My limbs, my veins dilate, my theme is clear at last, Banner so broad advancing out of the night, I sing you haughty  
 and resolute, I burst through where I waited long, too long, deafen'd and  
 blinded, My hearing and tongue are come to me, (a little child taught me,) I hear from above O pennant of war your ironical call and demand, Insensate! insensate! (yet I at any rate chant you,) O banner! Not houses of peace indeed are you, nor any nor all their pros- 
 perity, (if need be, you shall again have every one of those  
 houses to destroy them, You thought not to destroy those valuable houses, standing fast,  
 full of comfort, built with money, May they stand fast, then? not an hour except you above them  
 and all stand fast;) O banner, not money so precious are you, not farm produce you,  
 nor the material good nutriment, Nor excellent stores, nor landed on wharves from the ships,   [ begin page 228 ]ppp.00707.236.jpg Not the superb ships with sail-power or steam-power, fetching and  
 carrying cargoes, Nor machinery, vehicles, trade, nor revenues—but you as hence- 
 forth I see you, Running up out of the night, bringing your cluster of stars, (ever- 
 enlarging stars,) Divider of daybreak you, cutting the air, touch'd by the sun,  
 measuring the sky, (Passionately seen and yearn'd for by one poor little child, While others remain busy or smartly talking, forever teaching  
 thrift, thrift;) O you up there! O pennant! where you undulate like a snake  
 hissing so curious, Out of reach, an idea only, yet furiously fought for, risking bloody  
 death, loved by me, So loved—O you banner leading the day with stars brought from  
 the night! Valueless, object of eyes, over all and demanding all—(absolute  
 owner of all)—O banner and pennant! I too leave the rest—great as it is, it is nothing—houses,  
 machines are nothing—I see them not, I see but you, O warlike pennant! O banner so broad, with stripes,  
 I sing you only, Flapping up there in the wind.

RISE O DAYS FROM YOUR FATHOMLESS DEEPS.

1

RISE O days from your fathomless deeps, till you loftier, fiercer  
 sweep, Long for my soul hungering gymnastic I devour'd what the earth  
 gave me, Long I roam'd the woods of the north, long I watch'd Niagara  
 pouring, I travel'd the prairies over and slept on their breast, I cross'd the  
 Nevadas, I cross'd the plateaus, I ascended the towering rocks along the Pacific, I sail'd out to  
 sea, I sail'd through the storm, I was refresh'd by the storm, I watch'd with joy the threatening maws of the waves, I mark'd the white combs where they career'd so high, curling  
 over, I heard the wind piping, I saw the black clouds,   [ begin page 229 ]ppp.00707.237.jpg Saw from below what arose and mounted, (O superb! O wild as  
 my heart, and powerful!) Heard the continuous thunder as it bellow'd after the lightning, Noted the slender and jagged threads of lightning as sudden and  
 fast amid the din they chased each other across the sky; These, and such as these, I, elate, saw—saw with wonder, yet  
 pensive and masterful, All the menacing might of the globe uprisen around me, Yet there with my soul I fed, I fed content, supercilious.

3

Thunder on! stride on, Democracy! strike with vengeful stroke! And do you rise higher than ever yet O days, O cities! Crash heavier, heavier yet O storms! you have done me good, My soul prepared in the mountains absorbs your immortal strong  
 nutriment,   [ begin page 230 ]ppp.00707.238.jpg Long had I walk'd my cities, my country roads through farms,  
 only half satisfied, One doubt nauseous undulating like a snake, crawl'd on the  
 ground before me, Continually preceding my steps, turning upon me oft, ironically  
 hissing low; The cities I loved so well I abandon'd and left, I sped to the  
 certainties suitable to me, Hungering, hungering, hungering, for primal energies and Nature's  
 dauntlessness, I refresh'd myself with it only, I could relish it only, I waited the bursting forth of the pent fire—on the water and air  
 I waited long; But now I no longer wait, I am fully satisfied, I am glutted, I have witness'd the true lightning, I have witness'd my cities  
 electric, I have lived to behold man burst forth and warlike America rise, Hence I will seek no more the food of the northern solitary wilds, No more the mountains roam or sail the stormy sea.

VIRGINIA—THE WEST.

CITY OF SHIPS.

CITY of ships! (O the black ships! O the fierce ships! O the beautiful sharp-bow'd steam-ships and sail-ships!)   [ begin page 231 ]ppp.00707.239.jpg City of the world! (for all races are here, All the lands of the earth make contributions here;) City of the sea! city of hurried and glittering tides! City whose gleeful tides continually rush or recede, whirling in  
 and out with eddies and foam! City of wharves and stores—city of tall façades of marble and  
 iron! Proud and passionate city—mettlesome, mad, extravagant city! Spring up O city—not for peace alone, but be indeed yourself, 
 warlike! Fear not—submit to no models but your own O city! Behold me—incarnate me as I have incarnated you! I have rejected nothing you offer'd me—whom you adopted I  
 have adopted, Good or bad I never question you—I love all—I do not con- 
 demn any thing, I chant and celebrate all that is yours—yet peace no more, In peace I chanted peace, but now the drum of war is mine, War, red war is my song through your streets, O city!

THE CENTENARIAN'S STORY.

Volunteer of 1861-2, (at Washington Park, Brooklyn, assisting the Centenarian.)

GIVE me your hand old Revolutionary, The hill-top is nigh, but a few steps, (make room gentlemen,) Up the path you have follow'd me well, spite of your hundred and  
 extra years, You can walk old man, though your eyes are almost done, Your faculties serve you, and presently I must have them serve me. Rest, while I tell what the crowd around us means, On the plain below recruits are drilling and exercising, There is the camp, one regiment departs to-morrow, Do you hear the officers giving their orders? Do you hear the clank of the muskets? Why what comes over you now old man? Why do you tremble and clutch my hand so convulsively? The troops are but drilling, they are yet surrounded with smiles, Around them at hand the well-drest friends and the women, While splendid and warm the afternoon sun shines down, Green the midsummer verdure and fresh blows the dallying  
 breeze, O'er proud and peaceful cities and arm of the sea between.   [ begin page 232 ]ppp.00707.240.jpg But drill and parade are over, they march back to quarters, Only hear that approval of hands! hear what a clapping! As wending the crowds now part and disperse—but we old man, Not for nothing have I brought you hither—we must remain, You to speak in your turn, and I to listen and tell.

The Centenarian.

When I clutch'd your hand it was not with terror, But suddenly pouring about me here on every side, And below there where the boys were drilling, and up the slopes  
 they ran, And where tents are pitch'd, and wherever you see south and  
 south-east and south-west, Over hills, across lowlands, and in the skirts of woods, And along the shores, in mire (now fill'd over) came again and  
 suddenly raged, As eighty-five years a-gone no mere parade receiv'd with applause  
 of friends, But a battle which I took part in myself—aye, long ago as it is,  
 I took part in it, Walking then this hilltop, this same ground. Aye, this is the ground, My blind eyes even as I speak behold it re-peopled from graves, The years recede, pavements and stately houses disappear, Rude forts appear again, the old hoop'd guns are mounted, I see the lines of rais'd earth stretching from river to bay, I mark the vista of waters, I mark the uplands and slopes; Here we lay encamp'd, it was this time in summer also. As I talk I remember all, I remember the Declaration, It was read here, the whole army paraded, it was read to us here, By his staff surrounded the General stood in the middle, he held  
 up his unsheath'd sword, It glitter'd in the sun in full sight of the army. 'Twas a bold act then—the English war-ships had just arrived, We could watch down the lower bay where they lay at anchor, And the transports swarming with soldiers. A few days more and they landed, and then the battle. Twenty thousand were brought against us, A veteran force furnish'd with good artillery.   [ begin page 233 ]ppp.00707.241.jpg I tell not now the whole of the battle, But one brigade early in the forenoon order'd forward to engage  
 the red-coats, Of that brigade I tell, and how steadily it march'd, And how long and well it stood confronting death. Who do you think that was marching steadily sternly confronting  
 death? It was the brigade of the youngest men, two thousand strong, Rais'd in Virginia and Maryland, and most of them known per- 
 sonally to the General. Jauntily forward they went with quick step toward Gowanus' waters, Till of a sudden unlook'd for by defiles through the woods, gain'd  
 at night, The British advancing, rounding in from the east, fiercely playing  
 their guns, That brigade of the youngest was cut off and at the enemy's mercy. The General watch'd them from this hill, They made repeated desperate attempts to burst their environment, Then drew close together, very compact, their flag flying in the  
 middle, But O from the hills how the cannon were thinning and thinning  
 them! It sickens me yet, that slaughter! I saw the moisture gather in drops on the face of the General. I saw how he wrung his hands in anguish. Meanwhile the British manoeuvr'd to draw us out for a pitch'd  
 battle, But we dared not trust the chances of a pitch'd battle. We fought the fight in detachments, Sallying forth we fought at several points, but in each the luck was  
 against us, Our foe advancing, steadily getting the best of it, push'd us back  
 to the works on this hill, Till we turn'd menacing here, and then he left us. That was the going out of the brigade of the youngest men, two  
 thousand strong, Few return'd, nearly all remain in Brooklyn.   [ begin page 234 ]ppp.00707.242.jpg That and here my General's first battle, No women looking on nor sunshine to bask in, it did not conclude  
 with applause, Nobody clapp'd hands here then. But in darkness in mist on the ground under a chill rain, Wearied that night we lay foil'd and sullen, While scornfully laugh'd many an arrogant lord off against us  
 encamp'd, Quite within hearing, feasting, clinking wineglasses together over  
 their victory. So dull and damp and another day, But the night of that, mist lifting, rain ceasing, Silent as a ghost while they thought they were sure of him, my  
 General retreated. I saw him at the river-side, Down by the ferry lit by torches, hastening the embarcation; My General waited till the soldiers and wounded were all pass'd  
 over, And then, (it was just ere sunrise,) these eyes rested on him for  
 the last time. Every one else seem'd fill'd with gloom, Many no doubt thought of capitulation. But when my General pass'd me, As he stood in his boat and look'd toward the coming sun, I saw something different from capitulation.

Terminus.

Enough, the Centenarian's story ends, The two, the past and present, have interchanged, I myself as connecter, as chansonnier of a great future, am now  
 speaking. And is this the ground Washington trod? And these waters I listlessly daily cross, are these the waters he  
 cross'd, As resolute in defeat as other generals in their proudest triumphs? I must copy the story, and send it eastward and westward, I must preserve that look as it beam'd on you rivers of Brooklyn. See—as the annual round returns the phantoms return, It is the 27th of August and the British have landed,   [ begin page 235 ]ppp.00707.243.jpg The battle begins and goes against us, behold through the smoke  
 Washington's face, The brigade of Virginia and Maryland have march'd forth to inter- 
 cept the enemy, They are cut off, murderous artillery from the hills plays upon  
 them, Rank after rank falls, while over them silently droops the flag, Baptized that day in many a young man's bloody wounds, In death, defeat, and sisters', mothers' tears. Ah, hills and slopes of Brooklyn! I perceive you are more valuable  
 than your owners supposed; In the midst of you stands an encampment very old, Stands forever the camp of that dead brigade.

CAVALRY CROSSING A FORD.

BIVOUAC ON A MOUNTAIN SIDE.

AN ARMY CORPS ON THE MARCH.

BY THE BIVOUAC'S FITFUL FLAME.

COME UP FROM THE FIELDS FATHER.

VIGIL STRANGE I KEPT ON THE FIELD ONE NIGHT.

A MARCH IN THE RANKS HARD-PREST, AND THE  
 ROAD UNKNOWN.

A SIGHT IN CAMP IN THE DAYBREAK GRAY AND  
 DIM.

AS TOILSOME I WANDER'D VIRGINIA'S WOODS.

Long, long I muse, then on my way go wandering, Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene of life,   [ begin page 241 ]ppp.00707.249.jpg Yet at times through changeful season and scene, abrupt, alone, 
 or in the crowded street, Comes before me the unknown soldier's grave, comes the inscrip- 
 tion rude in Virginia's woods, Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.

NOT THE PILOT.

YEAR THAT TREMBLED AND REEL'D BENEATH ME.

THE WOUND-DRESSER.

1

AN old man bending I come among new faces, Years looking backward resuming in answer to children, Come tell us old man, as from young men and maidens that love  
 me, (Arous'd and angry, I'd thought to beat the alarum, and urge  
 relentless war, But soon my fingers fail'd me, my face droop'd and I resign'd  
 myself, To sit by the wounded and soothe them, or silently watch the  
 dead;) Years hence of these scenes, of these furious passions, these  
 chances,   [ begin page 242 ]ppp.00707.250.jpg 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

O 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.) But in silence, in dreams' projections, While the world of gain and appearance and mirth goes on, So soon what is over forgotten, and waves wash the imprints off  
 the sand, With hinged knees returning I enter the doors, (while for you up  
 there, Whoever you are, follow without noise and be of strong heart.) Bearing 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. I onward go, I stop, With hinged knees and steady hand to dress wounds, I am firm with each, the pangs are sharp yet unavoidable,   [ begin page 243 ]ppp.00707.251.jpg 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

Thus 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,   [ begin page 244 ]ppp.00707.252.jpg 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.)

LONG, TOO LONG AMERICA.

GIVE ME THE SPLENDID SILENT SUN.

1

GIVE me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling, Give me juicy autumnal fruit ripe and red from the orchard, Give me a field where the unmow'd grass grows, Give me an arbor, give me the trellis'd grape, Give me fresh corn and wheat, give me serene-moving animals  
 teaching content, Give me nights perfectly quiet as on high plateaus west of the  
 Mississippi, and I looking up at the stars, Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I  
 can walk undisturb'd, Give me for marriage a sweet-breath'd woman of whom I should  
 never tire, Give me a perfect child, give me away aside from the noise of the  
 world a rural domestic life, Give me to warble spontaneous songs recluse by myself, for my  
 own ears only, Give me solitude, give me Nature, give me again O Nature your  
 primal sanities! These demanding to have them, (tired with ceaseless excitement,  
 and rack'd by the war-strife,) These to procure incessantly asking, rising in cries from my heart, While yet incessantly asking still I adhere to my city,   [ begin page 245 ]ppp.00707.253.jpg Day upon day and year upon year O city, walking your streets, Where you hold me enchain'd a certain time refusing to give me  
 up, Yet giving to make me glutted, enrich'd of soul, you give me  
 forever faces; (O I see what I sought to escape, confronting, reversing my cries, I see my own soul trampling down what it ask'd for.)

DIRGE FOR TWO VETERANS.

OVER THE CARNAGE ROSE PROPHETIC A VOICE.

I SAW OLD GENERAL AT BAY.

I SAW old General at bay, (Old as he was, his gray eyes yet shone out in battle like stars,) His small force was now completely hemm'd in, in his works, He call'd for volunteers to run the enemy's lines, a desperate  
 emergency, I saw a hundred and more step forth from the ranks, but two or  
 three were selected,   [ begin page 248 ]ppp.00707.256.jpg I saw them receive their orders aside, they listen'd with care, the  
 adjutant was very grave, I saw them depart with cheerfulness, freely risking their lives.

THE ARTILLERYMAN'S VISION.

WHILE my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over  
 long, And my head on the pillow rests at home, and the vacant mid- 
 night passes, And through the stillness, through the dark, I hear, just hear, the  
 breath of my infant, There in the room as I wake from sleep this vision presses upon me; The engagement opens there and then in fantasy unreal, The skirmishers begin, they crawl cautiously ahead, I hear the  
 irregular snap! snap! I hear the sounds of the different missiles, the short t-h-t! t-h-t!  
 of the rifle-balls, I see the shells exploding leaving small white clouds, I hear the  
 great shells shrieking as they pass, The grape like the hum and whirr of wind through the trees, 
 (tumultuous now the contest rages,) All the scenes at the batteries rise in detail before me again, The crashing and smoking, the pride of the men in their pieces, The chief-gunner ranges and sights his piece and selects a fuse of  
 the right time, After firing I see him lean aside and look eagerly off to note the  
 effect; Elsewhere I hear the cry of a regiment charging, (the young  
 colonel leads himself this time with brandish'd sword,) I see the gaps cut by the enemy's volleys, (quickly fill'd up, no  
 delay,) I breathe the suffocating smoke, then the flat clouds hover low  
 concealing all; Now a strange lull for a few seconds, not a shot fired on either side, Then resumed the chaos louder than ever, with eager calls and  
 orders of officers, While from some distant part of the field the wind wafts to my  
 ears a shout of applause, (some special success,) And ever the sound of the cannon far or near, (rousing even in  
 dreams a devilish exultation and all the old mad joy in the  
 depths of my soul,) And ever the hastening of infantry shifting positions, batteries, 
 cavalry, moving hither and thither,   [ begin page 249 ]ppp.00707.257.jpg (The falling, dying, I heed not, the wounded dripping and red I  
 heed not, some to the rear are hobbling,) Grime, heat, rush, aide-de-camps galloping by or on a full run, With the patter of small arms, the warning s-s-t of the rifles, (these  
 in my vision I hear or see,) And bombs bursting in air, and at night the vari-color'd rockets.

ETHIOPIA SALUTING THE COLORS.

NOT YOUTH PERTAINS TO ME.

RACE OF VETERANS.

WORLD TAKE GOOD NOTICE.

O TAN-FACED PRAIRIE-BOY.

LOOK DOWN FAIR MOON.

RECONCILIATION.

WORD over all, beautiful as the sky, Beautiful that war and all its deeds of carnage must in time be  
 utterly lost, That the hands of the sisters Death and Night incessantly softly  
 wash again, and ever again, this soil'd world;   [ begin page 251 ]ppp.00707.259.jpg For my enemy is dead, a man divine as myself is dead, I look where he lies white-faced and still in the coffin—I draw  
 near, Bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the  
 coffin.

HOW SOLEMN AS ONE BY ONE.

(Washington City, 1865.)

AS I LAY WITH MY HEAD IN YOUR LAP CAMERADO.

DELICATE CLUSTER.

TO A CERTAIN CIVILIAN.

LO, VICTRESS ON THE PEAKS.

SPIRIT WHOSE WORK IS DONE.

(Washington City, 1865.)

ADIEU TO A SOLDIER.

Adieu dear comrade, Your mission is fulfill'd—but I, more warlike,   [ begin page 254 ]ppp.00707.262.jpg Myself and this contentious soul of mine, Still on our own campaigning bound, Through untried roads with ambushes opponents lined, Through many a sharp defeat and many a crisis, often baffled, Here marching, ever marching on, a war fight out—aye here, To fiercer, weightier battles give expression.

TURN O LIBERTAD.

TO THE LEAVEN'D SOIL THEY TROD.

TO the leaven'd soil they trod calling I sing for the last, (Forth from my tent emerging for good, loosing, untying the tent- 
 ropes,) In the freshness the forenoon air, in the far-stretching circuits and  
 vistas again to peace restored, To the fiery fields emanative and the endless vistas beyond, to the  
 South and the North, To the leaven'd soil of the general Western world to attest my  
 songs, To the Alleghanian hills and the tireless Mississippi, To the rocks I calling sing, and all the trees in the woods, To the plains of the poems of heroes, to the prairies spreading  
 wide,   [ begin page 255 ]ppp.00707.263.jpg To the far-off sea and the unseen winds, and the sane impalpable  
 air; And responding they answer all, (but not in words,) The average earth, the witness of war and peace, acknowledges  
 mutely, The prairie draws me close, as the father to bosom broad the son, The Northern ice and rain that began me nourish me to the end, But the hot sun of the South is to fully ripen my songs.