Page:Leaves of Grass (1860).djvu/81

Rh The enormous masses of ice pass me, and I pass them
 * —the scenery is plain in all directions,

The white-topped mountains show in the distance—
 * I fling out my fancies toward them,

We are approaching some great battle-field in which
 * we are soon to be engaged,

We pass the colossal out-posts of the encampment—
 * we pass with still feet and caution,

Or we are entering by the suburbs some vast and
 * ruined city.

The blocks and fallen architecture more than all the
 * living cities of the globe.

I am a free companion—I bivouac by invading
 * watchfires.

I turn the bridegroom out of bed, and stay with the
 * bride myself,

I tighten her all night to my thighs and lips.

My voice is the wife's voice, the screech by the rail
 * of the stairs.

They fetch my man's body up, dripping and drowned.

I understand the large hearts of heroes. The courage of present times and all times. How the skipper saw the crowded and rudderless
 * wreck of the steam-ship, and Death chasing it
 * up and down the storm.

How he knuckled tight, and gave not back one inch,
 * and was faithful of days and faithful of nights.

And chalked in large letters, on a board, Be of good
 * cheer, We will not desert you,

Rh