CONTENTS
FORWARD
I. WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOORYARD BLOOM'D
II. O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!
III. HUSH'D BE THE CAMPS TODAY
IV. THIS DUST WAS ONCE THE MAN
LYRICS OF THE WAR
BEAT! BEAT! DRUMS!
COME UP FROM THE FIELDS FATHER
THE WOUND-DRESSER
SPIRIT WHOSE WORK IS DONE
ASHES OF SOLDIERS
PENSIVE ON HER DEAD GAZING
CAMPS OF GREEN
He knew to bide his time,
And can his fame abide,
Still patient in his simple faith sublime,
Till the wise years decide.
Great captains, with their guns and drums.
Disturb our judgment for the hour,
But at last silence comes;
These all are gone, and, standing like a tower,
Our children shall behold his fame.
The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man,
Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame,
New birth of our new soil, the first American.