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Leaves of Grass (1871-72)
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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
manœuver,
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Red battles with their slaughter,—the stimulus—the
strong, terrific game,
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Spell of all brave and manly hearts—the trains of Time
through you, and like of you, all fill'd,
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| With war, and war's expression. |
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| 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,
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Through many a sharp defeat and many a crisis—often
baffled,
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Here marching, ever marching on, a war fight out—
aye here,
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| To fiercer, weightier battles give expression. |
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