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;)
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 har'd-fought engagements or sieges
tremendous what deepest
remains?
2
O maidens and young men I love and
that love me,
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,
(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,
With hinged knees returning I enter the
doors, (while for you up there,
Whoever you are, follow without noise
and be of strong heart.)
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,
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,
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.
3
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!
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,
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 and sinking,
And the yellow-blue countenance see.
I dress the perforated shoulder, the foot
with the bullet-wound,
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.)
4
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,
(Many a soldier's loving arms about this
neck have cross'd and rested,
Many a soldier's kiss dwells on these
bearded lips.)