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. 56. Old Age's Lambent Peaks
2. Leaves of Grass. 24. Autumn Rivulets. 13. Out from Behind This Mask [To Confront a Portrait]
3. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 32. Life
4. Leaves of Grass. 5. Calamus. 16. Behold This Swarthy Face
5. Leaves of Grass. 5. Calamus. 21. The Prairie-Grass Dividing

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