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Leaves of Grass (1871-72)
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A SIGHT IN CAMP IN THE DAY-BREAK GREY AND DIM.
1 A SIGHT in camp in the day-break grey and dim, |
As from my tent I emerge so early, sleepless, |
As slow I walk in the cool fresh air, the path near by
the hospital tent,
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View Page 283
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Three forms I see on stretchers lying, brought out
there, untended lying,
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Over each the blanket spread, ample brownish woollen
blanket,
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Grey and heavy blanket, folding, covering all. |
2 Curious, I halt, and silent stand. |
Then with light fingers I from the face of the nearest,
the first, just lift the blanket:
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Who are you, elderly man so gaunt and grim, with well-
grey'd hair, and flesh all sunken about the eyes?
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Who are you, my dear comrade? |
3 Then to the second I step—And who are you, my
child and darling?
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Who are you, sweet boy, with cheeks yet blooming? |
4 Then to the third—a face nor child, nor old, very
calm, as of beautiful yellow-white ivory;
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Young man, I think I know you—I think this face of
yours is the face of the Christ himself;
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Dead and divine, and brother of all, and here again he
lies.
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