194. Hush’d be the Camps To-day. Whitman, Walt. 1900. Leaves of Grass

Walt Whitman (1819–1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900.

194. Hush’d be the Camps To-day

1 HUSH’D be the camps to-day;
And, soldiers, let us drape our war-worn weapons;
And each with musing soul retire, to celebrate,
Our dear commander’s death.

No more for him life’s stormy conflicts;	5
Nor victory, nor defeat—no more time’s dark events,
Charging like ceaseless clouds across the sky.

2 But sing, poet, in our name;
Sing of the love we bore him—because you, dweller in camps, know it truly.

As they invault the coffin there;	10
Sing—as they close the doors of earth upon him—one verse,
For the heavy hearts of soldiers.