 |
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | Leaves of grass. |  |
11
34 For the great Idea!
For that we live, my brethren — that is the mission of Poets.
35 With their poems of stern defiance, ever ready,
With songs of the rapid arming, and the march,
And the flag of peace quick-folded, and the song, instead, of the flag we know,
The flag of the youths and veterans — flaunting flag,
Warlike flag of the great Idea.
36 (Angry cloth I saw there leaping!
I stand again in the leaden rain, your flapping folds saluting;
I sing you over all, flying, beckoning through the fight — O the hard-contested fight!
O the cannons ope their rosy-flashing muzzles! the hurtled balls scream!
The battle-front forms amid the smoke — the volleys pour incessant from the line;
Hark! the ringing word, Charge! — now the tussle, and the furious maddening yells;
Now the corpses tumble curl'd upon the ground,
Cold, cold in death, for precious life of you,
Angry cloth I saw there leaping.)
For that we live, my brethren — that is the mission of Poets.
35 With their poems of stern defiance, ever ready,
With songs of the rapid arming, and the march,
And the flag of peace quick-folded, and the song, instead, of the flag we know,
The flag of the youths and veterans — flaunting flag,
Warlike flag of the great Idea.
36 (Angry cloth I saw there leaping!
I stand again in the leaden rain, your flapping folds saluting;
I sing you over all, flying, beckoning through the fight — O the hard-contested fight!
O the cannons ope their rosy-flashing muzzles! the hurtled balls scream!
The battle-front forms amid the smoke — the volleys pour incessant from the line;
Hark! the ringing word, Charge! — now the tussle, and the furious maddening yells;
Now the corpses tumble curl'd upon the ground,
Cold, cold in death, for precious life of you,
Angry cloth I saw there leaping.)
| Leaves of grass. | |