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46 This is for the illiterate, and for the judges of the
 * Supreme Court, and for the Federal capitol and the
 * State capitols,

And for the admirable communes of literats,
 * composers, singers, lecturers, engineers, and savans,

And for the endless races of work-people, farmers,
 * and seamen.

This is the trilling of thousands of clear cornets,
 * screaming of octave flutes, striking of triangles.

I play not here marches for victors only—I play
 * great marches for conquered and slain persons.

Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall—battles are lost in the
 * same spirit in which they are won.

I beat triumphal drums for the dead, I blow through my embouchures my loudest and
 * gayest music to them.

Vivas to those who have failed! And to those whose war-vessels sank in the sea! And those themselves who sank in the sea! And to all generals that lost engagements! and all
 * overcome heroes!

And the numberless unknown heroes, equal to the
 * greatest heroes known.

This is the meal pleasantly set—this is the meat and
 * drink for natural hunger,

It is for the wicked just the same as the righteous—I
 * make appointments with all,