Walt Whitman (Уолт Уитмен)

Leaves of Grass. 21. Drum-Taps. 35. How Solemn As One by One [Washington City, 1865]

How solemn as one by one,
As the ranks returning worn and sweaty, as the men file by where 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,
O the bullet could never kill what you really are, dear friend,
Nor the bayonet stab what you really are;
The soul! yourself I see, great as any, good as the best,
Waiting secure and content, which the bullet could never kill,
Nor the bayonet stab O friend.

Walt Whitman’s other poems:

  1. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 10. To the Pending Year
  2. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 11. Shakspere-Bacon’s Cipher
  3. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 13. Bravo, Paris Exposition!
  4. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 24. The Commonplace
  5. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 14. Memories




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