Daily Whitman

ME-StE's Photos by Michael Williamson NEG#187021 12/28/06: WE TOUR ST. ELIZABETH'S HOSPITAL IN THE WEST CAMPUS AREA--THIS AREA IS SET TO BECOME THE HQ'S FOR THE DEPT. OF HOMELAND SECURITY: There's a little-known old Civil War cemetary on the grounds of St. E's -- but it not expected to be impacted by the move to the campus by Homeland Security. StaffPhoto imported to Merlin on Sat Jun 16 12:44:02 2007

Camps of Green

  Nor alone those camps of white, old comrades of the wars,
  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
  Or proceed to battle.

  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?)

  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 moonlight, content
      and silent there at last,
  Behold the mighty bivouac-field and waiting-camp of all,
  Of the 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 fought,
  (There without hatred we all, all meet.)

  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.



Posted on 23/08/2015, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: