|
Leaves of Grass (1871-72)
contents
| previous
| next
ADIEU TO A SOLDIER.
You of the rude campaigning, (which we shared,) |
The rapid march, the life of the camp, |
The hot contention of opposing fronts—the long
manuver,
|
Red battles with their slaughter,—the stimulus—the
strong, terrific game,
|
Spell of all brave and manly hearts—the trains of Time
through you, and like of you, all fill'd,
|
With war, and war's expression. |
View Page 338
|
Your mission is fulfill'd—but I, more warlike, |
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. |
contents
| previous
| next
|
| |