Ashes of Soldiers
Ashes of soldiers South or North,As I muse retrospective murmuring a chant in thought,The war resumes, again to my sense your shapes,And again the advance of the armies.
Noiseless as mists and vapors,From their graves in the trenches ascending,From cemeteries all through Virginia and Tennessee,From every point of the compass out of the countless graves,In wafted clouds, in myriads large, or squads of twos or threes orsingle ones they come,And silently gather round me.
Now sound no note O trumpeters,Not at the head of my cavalry parading on spirited horses,With sabres drawn and glistening, and carbines by their thighs, (ahmy brave horsemen!My handsome tan-faced horsemen! what life, what joy and pride,With all the perils were yours.)
Nor you drummers, neither at reveille at dawn,Nor the long roll alarming the camp, nor even the muffled beat for burial,Nothing from you this time O drummers bearing my warlike drums.
But aside from these and the marts of wealth and the crowded promenade,Admitting around me comrades close unseen by the rest and voiceless,The slain elate and alive again, the dust and debris alive,I chant this chant of my silent soul in the name of all dead soldiers.
Faces so pale with wondrous eyes, very dear, gather closer yet,Draw close, but speak not.
Phantoms of countless lost,Invisible to the rest henceforth become my companions,Follow me ever--desert me not while I live.
Sweet are the blooming cheeks of the living--sweet are the musicalvoices sounding,But sweet, ah sweet, are the dead with their silent eyes.
Dearest comrades, all is over and long gone,But love is not over--and what love, O comrades!Perfume from battle-fields rising, up from the foetor arising.
Perfume therefore my chant, O love, immortal love,Give me to bathe the memories of all dead soldiers,Shroud them, embalm them, cover them all over with tender pride.
Perfume all--make all wholesome,Make these ashes to nourish and blossom,O love, solve all, fructify all with the last chemistry.
Give me exhaustless, make me a fountain,That I exhale love from me wherever I go like a moist perennial dew,For the ashes of all dead soldiers South or North.
Words in this poem 16
- countless a.
- Incapable of being counted; not ascertainable; innumerable.
- spirited a.
- Animated or possessed by a spirit.
- reveille n.
- The beat of drum, or bugle blast, about break of day, to give notice that it is time for the soldiers to rise, and for the sentinels to forbear challenging. [F. réveil, fr. réveiller to awake; pref. re- re- + pref. es- (L. ex) + veiller to awake, watch, L. vigilare to watch. The English form was prob. taken by mistak]
- alarming a.
- Exciting, or calculated to excite, alarm; causing apprehension of danger; as, an alarming crisis or report.
- burial n.
- A grave; a tomb; a place of sepulture. [OE. buriel, buriels, grave, tomb, AS. byrgels, fr. byrgan to bury, and akin to OS. burgisli sepulcher.]
- wealth n.
- Weal; welfare; prosperity; good. [OE. welthe, from wele; cf. D. weelde luxury. See Weal prosperity.]
- promenade n.
- A walk for pleasure, display, or exercise. Burke. [F. (with a foreign suffix), from promener to lead, take for a walk, se promener to walk, from L. prominare to drive forward or along; pro forward + minare to dr]
- unseen a.
- Not seen or discovered.
- voiceless a.
- Having no voice, utterance, or vote; silent; mute; dumb.
- elate a.
- Lifted up; raised; elevated. [L. elatus elevated, fig., elated, proud (the figure, perh., being borrowed from a prancing horse); e out + latus (used as p. p. of ferre to bear), for tlatus, a]
- wondrous adv.
- In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
- closer n.
- One who, or that which, closes; specifically, a boot closer. See under Boot.
- henceforth adv.
- From this time forward; henceforward.
- fructify v. t.
- To make fruitful; to render productive; to fertilize; as, to fructify the earth.
- exhaustless a.
- Not be exhausted; inexhaustible; as, an exhaustless fund or store.
- wherever adv.
- At or in whatever place; wheresoever.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Ashes of Soldiers is in the public domain. This text is taken from Leaves of Grass, Project Gutenberg ebook #1322; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Walt Whitman, Ashes of Soldiers, in Leaves of Grass (1855–1892), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1322, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/whitman-leaves/ashes-of-soldiers.html, id L04060.
Form and metre
Ashes of Soldiers is 44 lines in 12 verse paragraphs. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. 75% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 12.2 syllables. 18 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 7% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 2 --A---A vapors · ascending · tennesseeA · graves · or · come · meA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Ashes of soldiers South or North, | 8 | /˘·/˘··· |
| As I muse retrospective murmuring a chant in thought, | 14 | ····˘/˘/˘˘···· |
| The war resumes, again to my sense your shapes, | 11 | ··˘/˘/····· |
| And again the advance of the armies. | 10 | ·˘/·˘/··/˘ |
| Noiseless as mists and vapors, | 7 | /˘···/˘ |
| From their graves in the trenches ascending, | 10 | ·····/˘˘/˘ |
| From cemeteries all through Virginia and Tennessee, | 14 | ·/˘·˘··˘/˘··˘/ |
| From every point of the compass out of the countless graves, | 15 | ·/˘˘···/˘···/˘· |
| In wafted clouds, in myriads large, or squads of twos or threes or | 16 | ·/˘··/˘˘········ |
| single ones they come, | 5 | /˘··· |
| And silently gather round me. | 8 | ·/˘˘/˘·· |
| Now sound no note O trumpeters, | 8 | ·····/˘˘ |
| Not at the head of my cavalry parading on spirited horses, | 18 | ······/˘˘˘/˘·/˘˘/˘ |
| With sabres drawn and glistening, and carbines by their thighs, (ah | 15 | ·/˘··/˘˘·/˘···· |
| my brave horsemen! | 4 | ··/˘ |
| My handsome tan-faced horsemen! what life, what joy and pride, | 13 | ·/˘··/˘······ |
| With all the perils were yours.) | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| Nor you drummers, neither at reveille at dawn, | 12 | ··/˘/˘·˘/˘·· |
| Nor the long roll alarming the camp, nor even the muffled beat for burial, | 20 | ····˘/˘···/˘·/˘··/˘˘ |
| Nothing from you this time O drummers bearing my warlike drums. | 15 | /˘·····/˘/˘·/·· |
| But aside from these and the marts of wealth and the crowded promenade, | 17 | ·˘/·········/˘·˘/ |
| Admitting around me comrades close unseen by the rest and voiceless, | 17 | ˘/˘···/··˘/····/˘ |
| The slain elate and alive again, the dust and debris alive, | 16 | ··˘/·˘/˘/···˘/˘/ |
| I chant this chant of my silent soul in the name of all dead soldiers. | 17 | ······/˘·······/˘ |
| Faces so pale with wondrous eyes, very dear, gather closer yet, | 16 | /˘···/˘·/˘·/˘/˘· |
| Draw close, but speak not. | 5 | ····· |
| Phantoms of countless lost, | 6 | /˘·/˘· |
| Invisible to the rest henceforth become my companions, | 15 | ˘/˘˘···//˘/·˘/˘ |
| Follow me ever--desert me not while I live. | 12 | /˘·/˘/˘····· |
| Sweet are the blooming cheeks of the living--sweet are the musical | 16 | ···/˘···/˘···/˘˘ |
| voices sounding, | 4 | /˘/˘ |
| But sweet, ah sweet, are the dead with their silent eyes. | 12 | ·········/˘· |
| Dearest comrades, all is over and long gone, | 11 | /˘/········ |
| But love is not over--and what love, O comrades! | 12 | ··········/· |
| Perfume from battle-fields rising, up from the foetor arising. | 16 | ˘/·/˘·/˘···/˘˘/˘ |
| Perfume therefore my chant, O love, immortal love, | 12 | ˘/······˘/˘· |
| Give me to bathe the memories of all dead soldiers, | 13 | ·····/˘˘···/˘ |
| Shroud them, embalm them, cover them all over with tender pride. | 15 | ··˘/·/˘·····/˘· |
| Perfume all--make all wholesome, | 7 | ˘/···/˘ |
| Make these ashes to nourish and blossom, | 10 | ··/˘·/˘·/˘ |
| O love, solve all, fructify all with the last chemistry. | 14 | ····/˘˘····/˘˘ |
| Give me exhaustless, make me a fountain, | 10 | ··˘/˘···/˘ |
| That I exhale love from me wherever I go like a moist perennial dew, | 20 | ··˘/···˘/˘·····˘/˘˘· |
| For the ashes of all dead soldiers South or North. | 12 | ··/˘···/˘··· |
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