1

An old man bending, I come, among new faces,
Years looking backward, resuming, in answer to children,
Come tell us, old man, as from young men and maidens that
　　　love me;
(Arous’d and angry, I’d thought to beat the alarum, and urge
　　　relentless war,
But soon my fingers fail’d me, my face droop’d and I
　　　resign’d myself,
To sit by the wounded and soothe them, or silently watch the dead;)
Years hence of these scenes, of these furious passions, these
　　　chances,
Of unsurpass’d heroes, (was one side so brave? the other was
　　　equally brave;) 5
Now be witness again--paint the mightiest armies of earth;
Of those armies so rapid, so wondrous, what saw you to tell us?
What stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics,
Of hard-fought engagements, or sieges tremendous, what deepest
　　　remains?

2

O maidens and young men I love, and that love me, 10
What you ask of my days, those the strangest and sudden your
　　　talking recalls;
Soldier alert I arrive, after a long march, cover’d with sweat and
　　　dust;
In the nick of time I come, plunge in the fight, loudly shout in the
　　　rush of successful charge;
Enter the captur’d works.... yet lo! like a swift-running river, they
　　　fade;
Pass and are gone, they fade--I dwell not on soldiers’ perils or
　　　soldiers’ joys; 15
(Both I remember well--many the hardships, few the joys, yet I was
　　　content.)

But in silence, in dreams’ projections,
While the world of gain and appearance and mirth goes on,
So soon what is over forgotten, and waves wash the imprints off
　　　the sand,
In nature’s reverie sad, with hinged knees returning, I enter the doors--(while for you up there, 20
Whoever you are, follow me without noise, and be of strong heart.)

3

Bearing the bandages, water and sponge,
Straight and swift to my wounded I go,
Where they lie on the ground, after the battle brought in;
Where their priceless blood reddens the grass, the ground; 25
Or to the rows of the hospital tent, or under the roof’d hospital;
To the long rows of cots, up and down, each side, I return;
To each and all, one after another, I draw near--not one do I miss;
An attendant follows, holding a tray--he carries a refuse pail,
Soon to be fill’d with clotted rags and blood, emptied and fill’d
　　　again. 30

I onward go, I stop,
With hinged knees and steady hand to dress wounds;
I am firm with each--the pangs are sharp, yet unavoidable;
One turns to me his appealing eyes--(poor boy! I never knew you,
Yet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that
　　　would save you.) 35

4

On, on I go!--(open doors of time! open hospital doors!)
The crush’d head I dress, (poor crazed hand, tear not the
　　　bandage away;)
The neck of the cavalry-man, with the bullet through and through,
　　　I examine;
Hard the breathing rattles, quite glazed already the eye, yet life
　　　struggles hard;
(Come, sweet death! be persuaded, O beautiful death! 40
In mercy come quickly.)

From the stump of the arm, the amputated hand,
I undo the clotted lint, remove the slough, wash off the matter
　　　and blood;
Back on his pillow the soldier bends, with curv’d neck, and side-
　　　falling head;
His eyes are closed, his face is pale, (he dares not look on the
　　　bloody stump, 45
And has not yet look’d on it.)

I dress a wound in the side, deep, deep;
But a day or two more--for see, the frame all wasted already, and
　　　sinking,
And the yellow-blue countenance see.

I dress the perforated shoulder, the foot with the bullet wound, 50
Cleanse the one with a gnawing and putrid gangrene, so sickening,
　　　so offensive,
While the attendant stands behind aside me, holding the tray and pail.

I am faithful, I do not give out;
The fractur’d thigh, the knee, the wound in the abdomen,
These and more I dress with impassive hand--(yet deep in my breast
　　　a fire, a burning flame.) 55

5

Thus in silence, in dreams’ projections,
Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals;
The hurt and wounded I pacify with soothing hand,
I sit by the restless all the dark night--some are so young;
Some suffer so much--I recall the experience sweet and sad; 60
(Many a soldier’s loving arms about this neck have cross’d and
　　　rested,
Many a soldier’s kiss dwells on these bearded lips.)