Daily Whitman

past-imperfect-last-of-blue-grey-williams

The Dying Veteran

  Amid these days of order, ease, prosperity,
  Amid the current songs of beauty, peace, decorum,
  I cast a reminiscence—(likely 'twill offend you,
  I heard it in my boyhood;)—More than a generation since,
  A queer old savage man, a fighter under Washington himself,
  (Large, brave, cleanly, hot-blooded, no talker, rather spiritualistic,
  Had fought in the ranks—fought well—had been all through the
      Revolutionary war,)
  Lay dying—sons, daughters, church-deacons, lovingly tending him,
  Sharping their sense, their ears, towards his murmuring, half-caught words:
  "Let me return again to my war-days,
  To the sights and scenes—to forming the line of battle,
  To the scouts ahead reconnoitering,
  To the cannons, the grim artillery,
  To the galloping aides, carrying orders,
  To the wounded, the fallen, the heat, the suspense,
  The perfume strong, the smoke, the deafening noise;
  Away with your life of peace!—your joys of peace!
  Give me my old wild battle-life again!"

 

Posted on 21/10/2015, 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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: