Sweet are the blooming cheeks of the living! sweet are the

musical voices sounding!

But sweet, ah sweet, are the dead, with their silent eyes.

Dearest comrades! all is over and long gone ;1
But love is not over-and what love, O comrades!
Perfume from battle-fields rising-up from foetor arising.

30

Perfume therefore my chant, O love! immortal Love!
Give me to bathe the memories of all dead soldiers,
Shroud them, embalm them, cover them all over with tender
pride !2

Perfume all! make all wholesome!

Make these ashes to nourish and blossom,3

O love! O chant ! solve all, fructify all with the last chemistry.

Give me exhaustless—make me a fountain,

That I exhale love from me wherever I go, like a moist peren

nial dew,5

For the ashes of all dead soldiers.

40

IN MIDNIGHT SLEEP.

First published in "When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom'd," 1865-6, under title of "In Clouds Descending, in Midnight Sleep."

I

IN midnight sleep, of many a face of anguish,

Of the look at first of the mortally wounded-of that indescribable look;

Of the dead on their backs, with arms extended wide,

I dream, I dream, I dream.

2

Of scenes of nature, fields and mountains;

Of skies, so beauteous after a storm-and at night the moon so unearthly bright,

1 Drum-Taps reads "Dearest comrades! all is now over."

2 Line 35 added in 1870.

3 Line 37 added in 1870.

"fructify all" added in 1870.

5 "like a moist perennial dew" added in 1870.

Lilacs reads " In clouds descending, in midnight sleep," etc.

Shining sweetly, shining down, where we dig the trenches and

gather the heaps,

I dream, I dream, I dream.

3

Long, long have they pass'd'-faces and trenches and fields; Where through the carnage I moved with a callous composureor away from the fallen,

Onward I sped at the time-But now of their forms at night, I dream, I dream, I dream.

ΙΟ

CAMPS OF GREEN.

First published in "Drum-Taps," 1865.

Not alone those camps of white, O soldiers,

When, as order'd forward, after a long march,

Footsore and weary, soon as the light lessen'd, we halted for the night;

Some of us so fatigued, carrying the gun and knapsack, dropping

asleep in our tracks;

Others pitching the little tents, and the fires lit up began to sparkle;

Outposts of pickets posted, surrounding, alert through the dark, And a word provided for countersign, careful for safety;

Till to the call of the drummers at daybreak loudly beating the

drums,

We rose up refresh'd, the night and sleep pass'd over, and resumed our journey,

Or proceeded to battle.

Lo! the camps of the tents of green,

ΙΟ

Which the days of peace keep filling, and the days of war keep

filling,

With a mystic army, (is it too order'd forward? is it too only halting awhile,

Till night and sleep pass over?)

Now in those camps of green—in their tents dotting the world; In the parents, children, husbands, wives, in them in the old

and young,

1 Lilacs reads "Long have they pass'd, long lapsed-faces," etc.

Sleeping under the sunlight, sleeping under the moonlight, content and silent there at last,

Behold the mighty bivouac-field, and waiting-camp of all,'

Of corps and generals all, and the President over the corps and generals all,

And of each of us, O soldiers, and of each and all in the ranks we fought,

(There without hatred we shall all meet.)

20

For presently, O soldiers, we too camp in our place in the bivouac-camps of green;

But we need not provide for outposts, nor word for the countersign,

Nor drummer to beat the morning drum.

TO A CERTAIN CIVILIAN.

First published in "Drum-Taps," 1865, under title of "Do You Ask Dulcet Rhymes From Me?"

DID YOU ask dulcet rhymes from me?

Did you seek the civilian's peaceful and languishing rhymes? Did you find what I sang erewhile so hard to follow ?3

Why I was not singing erewhile for you to follow, to understand -nor am I now;

(I have been born of the same as the war was born;

The drum-corps' harsh rattle is to me sweet music-I love well

the martial dirge,

With slow wail, and convulsive throb, leading the officer's funeral :)*

-What to such as you, anyhow, such a poet as I?—therefore leave my works,

And

go lull yourself with what you can understand—and with piano-tunes ;5

For I lull nobody-and you will never understand me.

1 Drum-Taps reads "of us and ours and all."

Line 2 added in 1870.

3 Drum-Taps adds "to understand?"

4 Lines 5-6-7 added in 1870.

"and with piano-tunes" added in 1870.

PENSIVE ON HER DEAD GAZING, I HEARD THE MOTHER OF ALL.

First published in "Drum-Taps," 1865.

PENSIVE, on her dead gazing, I heard the Mother of All, Desperate, on the torn bodies, on the forms covering the battlefields gazing;

(As the last gun ceased-but the scent of the powder-smoke linger'd ;)'

As she call'd to her earth with mournful voice while she stalk'd: Absorb them well, O my earth, she cried-I charge you, lose not

my sons! lose not an atom;

And you streams, absorb them well, taking their dear blood;
And you local spots, and you airs that swim above lightly,
And all you essences of soil and growth-and you, my rivers'
depths;

And you, mountain sides-and the woods where my dear chil. dren's blood, trickling, redden'd;

And you trees, down in your roots, to bequeath to all future trees,

ΙΟ

My dead absorb-my young men's beautiful bodies absorb—and their precious, precious, precious blood; Which holding in trust for me, faithfully back again give me, many a year hence,

In unseen essence and odor of surface and grass, centuries hence; In blowing airs from the fields, back again give me my darlings -give my immortal heroes;

Exhale me them centuries hence-breathe me their breath-let not an atom be lost;

O years and graves! O air and soil! O my dead, an arom?

sweet!

Exhale them perennial, sweet death, years, centuries hence.

1 Line 3 added in 1870.

PRESIDENT LINCOLN'S BURIAL HYMN.

WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOOR-YARD BLOOM'D. First published in " When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom'd," 1865-6.

I

WHEN lilacs last in the door-yard bloom'd,

And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourn'd-and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.

O ever-returning spring! trinity sure to me you bring;
Lilac blooming perennial, and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.

2

O powerful, western, fallen star!

O shades of night! O moody, tearful night!

O great star disappear'd: O the black murk that hides the star! O cruel hands that hold me powerless! O helpless soul of me!

O harsh surrounding cloud, that will not free my soul !

ΙΟ

3

In the door-yard fronting an old farm-house, near the white

wash'd palings,

Stands the lilac bush, tall-growing, with heart-shaped leaves of

rich green,

With many a pointed blossom, rising, delicate, with the perfume

strong I love,

With every leaf a miracle....

yard,

and from this bush in the door

With delicate-color'd blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich