Poem: “Survivors” by Walt Whitman

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American Literature – Children Books – American Poetry – Walt Whitman – Poems by Walt Whitman – Drum Taps
< < < Dirge For Two Veterans
Hymn Of Dead Soldiers> > >

Survivors

How solemn, as one by one,
As the ranks returning, all worn and sweaty—as the men file by where I
        stand;
As the faces, the masks appear—as I glance at the faces, studying the
        masks;
As I glance upward out of this page, studying you, dear friend, whoever you
        are;—
How solemn the thought of my whispering soul, to each in the ranks, and to
        you!
I see, behind each mask, that wonder, a kindred soul.
O the bullet could never kill what you really are, dear friend,
Nor the bayonet stab what you really are.
—The soul, yourself, I see, great as any, good as the best,
Waiting secure and content,—which the bullet could never kill,
Nor the bayonet stab, O friend!

< < < Dirge For Two Veterans
Hymn Of Dead Soldiers > > >

American Literature – Children Books – American Poetry – Walt Whitman – Poems by Walt Whitman – Drum Taps

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