Poem by Walt Whitman

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.

1. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 14. Memories
2. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 33. “Going Somewhere”
3. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 43. The Dying Veteran
4. Leaves of Grass. 35. Good-Bye My Fancy. 18. Sounds of the Winter
5. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 42. While Not the Past Forgetting

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