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Whitman, Walt, 1819-1892

"Poems By Walt Whitman"


But first I bend to the dying lad--his eyes open--a half-smile gives he me;
Then the eyes close, calmly close: and I speed forth to the darkness,
Resuming, marching, as ever in darkness marching, on in the ranks,
The unknown road still marching.

_A SIGHT IN CAMP._

1.
A sight in camp in the daybreak 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,
Three forms I see on stretchers lying, brought out there, untended lying;
Over each the blanket spread, ample brownish woollen blanket,
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;
Who are you, elderly man, so gaunt and grim, with well-greyed hair, and
flesh all sunken about the eyes?
Who are you, my dear comrade?
Then to the second I step--And who are you, my child and darling?
Who are you, sweet boy, with cheeks yet blooming?
Then to the third--a face nor child nor old, very calm, as of beautiful
yellow-white ivory:
Young man, I think I know you--I think this face of yours is the face of
the Christ Himself;
Dead and divine and brother of all, and here again He lies.


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