The Wound-Dresser, by Walt Whitman\r\n\r\n
1
\r\nAn old man bending I come among new faces,
\r\nYears looking backward resuming in answer to children,
\r\nCome tell us old man, as from young men and maidens that love me,
\r\n(Arous\u2019d and angry, I\u2019d thought to beat the alarum, and urge relentless war,
\r\nBut soon my fingers fail\u2019d me, my face droop\u2019d and I resign\u2019d myself,
\r\nTo sit by the wounded and soothe them, or silently watch the dead;)
\r\nYears hence of these scenes, of these furious passions, these chances,
\r\nOf unsurpass\u2019d heroes, (was one side so brave? the other was equally brave;)
\r\nNow be witness again, paint the mightiest armies of earth,
\r\nOf those armies so rapid so wondrous what saw you to tell us?
\r\nWhat stays with you latest and deepest? of curious panics,
\r\nOf hard-fought engagements or sieges tremendous what deepest remains?
\r\n 2
\r\nO maidens and young men I love and that love me,
\r\nWhat you ask of my days those the strangest and sudden your talking recalls,
\r\nSoldier alert I arrive after a long march cover\u2019d with sweat and dust,
\r\nIn the nick of time I come, plunge in the fight, loudly shout in the rush of successful charge,
\r\nEnter the captur\u2019d works\u2014yet lo, like a swift-running river they fade,
\r\nPass and are gone they fade\u2014I dwell not on soldiers\u2019 perils or soldiers\u2019 joys,
\r\n(Both I remember well\u2014many the hardships, few the joys, yet I was content.)
\r\nBut in silence, in dreams\u2019 projections,
\r\nWhile the world of gain and appearance and mirth goes on,
\r\nSo soon what is over forgotten, and waves wash the imprints off the sand,
\r\nWith hinged knees returning I enter the doors, (while for you up there,
\r\nWhoever you are, follow without noise and be of strong heart.)
\r\nBearing the bandages, water and sponge,
\r\nStraight and swift to my wounded I go,
\r\nWhere they lie on the ground after the battle brought in,
\r\nWhere their priceless blood reddens the grass the ground,
\r\nOr to the rows of the hospital tent, or under the roof\u2019d hospital,
\r\nTo the long rows of cots up and down each side I return,
\r\nTo each and all one after another I draw near, not one do I miss,
\r\nAn attendant follows holding a tray, he carries a refuse pail,
\r\nSoon to be fill\u2019d with clotted rags and blood, emptied, and fill\u2019d again.
\r\nI onward go, I stop,
\r\nWith hinged knees and steady hand to dress wounds,
\r\nI am firm with each, the pangs are sharp yet unavoidable,
\r\nOne turns to me his appealing eyes\u2014poor boy! I never knew you,
\r\nYet I think I could not refuse this moment to die for you, if that would save you.
\r\n 3
\r\nOn, on I go, (open doors of time! open hospital doors!)
\r\nThe crush\u2019d head I dress, (poor crazed hand tear not the bandage away,)
\r\nThe neck of the cavalry-man with the bullet through and through examine,
\r\nHard the breathing rattles, quite glazed already the eye, yet life struggles hard,
\r\n(Come sweet death! be persuaded O beautiful death!
\r\nIn mercy come quickly.)
\r\nFrom the stump of the arm, the amputated hand,
\r\nI undo the clotted lint, remove the slough, wash off the matter and blood,
\r\nBack on his pillow the soldier bends with curv\u2019d neck and side falling head,
\r\nHis eyes are closed, his face is pale, he dares not look on the bloody stump,
\r\nAnd has not yet look\u2019d on it.
\r\nI dress a wound in the side, deep, deep,
\r\nBut a day or two more, for see the frame all wasted and sinking,
\r\nAnd the yellow-blue countenance see.
\r\nI dress the perforated shoulder, the foot with the bullet-wound,
\r\nCleanse the one with a gnawing and putrid gangrene, so sickening, so offensive,
\r\nWhile the attendant stands behind aside me holding the tray and pail.
\r\nI am faithful, I do not give out,
\r\nThe fractur\u2019d thigh, the knee, the wound in the abdomen,
\r\nThese and more I dress with impassive hand, (yet deep in my breast a fire, a burning flame.)
\r\n 4
\r\nThus in silence in dreams\u2019 projections,
\r\nReturning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals,
\r\nThe hurt and wounded I pacify with soothing hand,
\r\nI sit by the restless all the dark night, some are so young,
\r\nSome suffer so much, I recall the experience sweet and sad,
\r\n(Many a soldier\u2019s loving arms about this neck have cross\u2019d and rested,
\r\nMany a soldier\u2019s kiss dwells on these bearded lips.)
\r\n\r\n\r\n
Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,<\/I>
-Vardibidian.\r\n\r\n\r\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"In Which Your Humble Blogger is still feeling very Whitman.","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[201],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20336","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-navel-gazing"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/vardibidian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20336","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/vardibidian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/vardibidian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/vardibidian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/vardibidian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20336"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/vardibidian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20336\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20337,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/vardibidian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20336\/revisions\/20337"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/vardibidian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20336"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/vardibidian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20336"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kith.org\/vardibidian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20336"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}