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 hard-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 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;
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.)



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 already, 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.)