Walt Whitman,
Poems by Walt Whitman
“ Ending my vigil strange with that—vigil of night and battlefield dim; Vigil for boy of responding kisses, never again on earth responding; Vigil for comrade swiftly slain, vigil I never forget—how as day brightened I rose from the chill ground, and folded my soldier well in his blanket, And buried him where he fell. THE FLAG. Bathed in war's perfume—delicate flag! O to hear you call the sailors and the soldiers! flag like a beautiful woman! ”
