University of Virginia Library

1  NOT alone our camps of white, O soldiers,
When, as order'd forward, after a long march,
Footsore and weary, soon as the light lessens, we halt      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 begin      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 rise up refresh'd, the night and sleep pass'd over,      and resume our journey,
Or proceed to battle.
2  Lo! the camps of the tents of green,
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?)
3  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,
Sleeping under the sunlight, sleeping under the moon-     light, content and silent there at last,
Behold the mighty bivouac-field, and waiting-camp of      us and ours and all,
Of our 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 fight,
(There without hatred we shall all meet.)
4  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.