For the son is brought with the father;
In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell;
Two veterans, son and father, dropped together,
And the double grave awaits them.
In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell;
Two veterans, son and father, dropped together,
And the double grave awaits them.
Whitman
is it too only halting a
while,
Till night and sleep pass over? )
Now in those camps of green--in their tents dotting the world;
In the parents, children, husbands, wives, in them--in the old and young,
Sleeping under the sunlight, sleeping under the moonlight, content and
silent there at last;
Behold the mighty bivouac-field and waiting-camp of us and ours and all,
Of our corps and generals all, and the President over the corps and
generals all,
And of each of us, O soldiers, and of each and all in the ranks we fight,
There without hatred we shall all meet.
For presently, O soldiers, we too camp in our place in the bivouac-camps of
green;
But we need not provide for outposts, nor word for the countersign,
Nor drummer to beat the morning drum.
_DIRGE FOR TWO VETERANS. _
1.
The last sunbeam
Lightly falls from the finished Sabbath
On the pavement here--and, there beyond, it is looking
Down a new-made double grave.
2.
Lo! the moon ascending!
Up from the east, the silvery round moon;
Beautiful over the house-tops, ghastly, phantom moon;
Immense and silent moon.
3.
I see a sad procession,
And I hear the sound of coming full-keyed bugles;
All the channels of the city streets they're flooding,
As with voices and with tears.
4.
I hear the great drums pounding,
And the small drums steady whirring;
And every blow of the great convulsive drums
Strikes me through and through.
5.
For the son is brought with the father;
In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell;
Two veterans, son and father, dropped together,
And the double grave awaits them.
6.
Now nearer blow the bugles,
And the drums strike more convulsive;
And the daylight o'er the pavement quite has faded,
And the strong dead-march enwraps me.
7.
In the eastern sky up-buoying,
The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumined,
'Tis some mother's large, transparent face,
In heaven brighter growing.
8.
O strong dead-march, you please me!
O moon immense, with your silvery face you soothe me!
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans, passing to burial!
What I have I also give you.
9.
The moon gives you light,
And the bugles and the drums give you music;
And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,
My heart gives you love.
_SURVIVORS. _
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.
while,
Till night and sleep pass over? )
Now in those camps of green--in their tents dotting the world;
In the parents, children, husbands, wives, in them--in the old and young,
Sleeping under the sunlight, sleeping under the moonlight, content and
silent there at last;
Behold the mighty bivouac-field and waiting-camp of us and ours and all,
Of our corps and generals all, and the President over the corps and
generals all,
And of each of us, O soldiers, and of each and all in the ranks we fight,
There without hatred we shall all meet.
For presently, O soldiers, we too camp in our place in the bivouac-camps of
green;
But we need not provide for outposts, nor word for the countersign,
Nor drummer to beat the morning drum.
_DIRGE FOR TWO VETERANS. _
1.
The last sunbeam
Lightly falls from the finished Sabbath
On the pavement here--and, there beyond, it is looking
Down a new-made double grave.
2.
Lo! the moon ascending!
Up from the east, the silvery round moon;
Beautiful over the house-tops, ghastly, phantom moon;
Immense and silent moon.
3.
I see a sad procession,
And I hear the sound of coming full-keyed bugles;
All the channels of the city streets they're flooding,
As with voices and with tears.
4.
I hear the great drums pounding,
And the small drums steady whirring;
And every blow of the great convulsive drums
Strikes me through and through.
5.
For the son is brought with the father;
In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell;
Two veterans, son and father, dropped together,
And the double grave awaits them.
6.
Now nearer blow the bugles,
And the drums strike more convulsive;
And the daylight o'er the pavement quite has faded,
And the strong dead-march enwraps me.
7.
In the eastern sky up-buoying,
The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumined,
'Tis some mother's large, transparent face,
In heaven brighter growing.
8.
O strong dead-march, you please me!
O moon immense, with your silvery face you soothe me!
O my soldiers twain! O my veterans, passing to burial!
What I have I also give you.
9.
The moon gives you light,
And the bugles and the drums give you music;
And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans,
My heart gives you love.
_SURVIVORS. _
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.
