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Interpolation Sounds
By Walt Whitman
1819-1892Over and through the burial chant,
Organ and solemn service, sermon, bending priests,
To me come interpolation sounds not in the show--plainly to me,
crowding up the aisle and from the window,
Of sudden battle's hurry and harsh noises--war's grim game to sight
and ear in earnest;
The scout call'd up and forward--the general mounted and his aides
around him--the new-brought word--the instantaneous order issued;
The rifle crack--the cannon thud--the rushing forth of men from their
tents;
The clank of cavalry--the strange celerity of forming ranks--the
slender bugle note;
The sound of horses' hoofs departing--saddles, arms, accoutrements.
DayPoems Poem No. 2237
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