How Solemn As One By One

Walt Whitman

   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!                                    10

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