Poem by Walt Whitman

Leaves of Grass. 21. Drum-Taps. 38. To a Certain Civilian

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?
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' rattle is ever 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,
For I lull nobody, and you will never understand me.

1. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 56. Old Age's Lambent Peaks
2. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 32. Life
3. Leaves of Grass. 5. Calamus. 21. The Prairie-Grass Dividing
4. Leaves of Grass. 21. Drum-Taps. 12. An Army Corps on the March
5. Leaves of Grass. 34. Sands at Seventy. 1. Mannahatta

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