WITH its cloud of skirmishers in advance, <br /> With now the sound of a single shot, snapping like a whip, and now an <br /> irregular volley, <br /> The swarming ranks press on and on, the dense brigades press on; <br /> Glittering dimly, toiling under the sun--the dust-cover'd men, <br /> In columns rise and fall to the undulations of the ground, <br /> With artillery interspers'd--the wheels rumble, the horses sweat, <br /> As the army corps advances.<br /><br />Walt Whitman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-army-corps-on-the-march/
