THE last sunbeam <br /> Lightly falls from the finish'd Sabbath, <br /> On the pavement here--and there beyond, it is looking, <br /> Down a new-made double grave. <br /> <br /> <br /> Lo! the moon ascending! <br /> Up from the east, the silvery round moon; <br /> Beautiful over the house tops, ghastly phantom moon; <br /> Immense and silent moon. <br /> <br /> <br /> I see a sad procession, <br /> And I hear the sound of coming full-key'd bugles; 10 <br /> All the channels of the city streets they're flooding, <br /> As with voices and with tears. <br /> <br /> <br /> I hear the great drums pounding, <br /> And the small drums steady whirring; <br /> And every blow of the great convulsive drums, <br /> Strikes me through and through. <br /> <br /> <br /> For the son is brought with the father; <br /> In the foremost ranks of the fierce assault they fell; <br /> Two veterans, son and father, dropt together, <br /> And the double grave awaits them. 20 <br /> <br /> <br /> Now nearer blow the bugles, <br /> And the drums strike more convulsive; <br /> And the day-light o'er the pavement quite has faded, <br /> And the strong dead-march enwraps me. <br /> <br /> <br /> In the eastern sky up-buoying, <br /> The sorrowful vast phantom moves illumin'd; <br /> ('Tis some mother's large, transparent face, <br /> In heaven brighter growing.) <br /> <br /> <br /> O strong dead-march, you please me! <br /> O moon immense, with your silvery face you soothe me! 30 <br /> O my soldiers twain! O my veterans, passing to burial! <br /> What I have I also give you. <br /> <br /> <br /> The moon gives you light, <br /> And the bugles and the drums give you music; <br /> And my heart, O my soldiers, my veterans, <br /> My heart gives you love.<br /><br />Walt Whitman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dirge-for-two-veterans/
