"Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night"
 

Vigil strange I I kept on the field one night;

When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day,

One look I but gave which your dear eyes return’d with a look I shall never forget,

On touch of your hand to mine, O boy, reach’d up as you lay on the ground,

Then onward I sped in the battle, the even-contested battle, till late in the night reliev’d to the

Place at last again I made my way, Found you in death so cold dear comrade, found your

body son responding kisses (never again on earth responding,)Bared your face in the

starlight, curious the scene, cool blew the moderate night wind, long there and then in vigil I  stood, dimly around me the battle-field spreading, Vigil wondrous and vigil sweet there in the fragrant silent night, But not a tear fell, not even a long drawn sigh, long, long I gazed, then

on the earth partially reclining sat by your side leaning my chin in my hands.

Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you dearest comrade, note a tear,

Not a word.

​

Whitman, Walt. Drum Taps: The Complete Civil War Poems. Maine, 2015