How Solemn, as One by One

HOW SOLEMN, AS ONE BY ONE.

HOW solemn, as one by one, As the ranks returning, all worn and sweaty—as the men
file by where I stand; As the faces, the masks appear—as I glance at the faces,
studying the masks; (As I glance upward out of this page, studying you, dear
friend, whoever you are;) How solemn the thought of my whispering soul, to each in
the ranks, and to you; I see behind each mask, that wonder, a kindred soul: O the bullet could never kill what you really are, dear
friend, Nor the bayonet stab what you really are:
…The soul! yourself I see, great as any, good as the best, Waiting secure and content, which the bullet could never
kill, Nor the bayonet stab, O friend!