Poetic People
     Home     Poets     Contact Us     Chat
Member Login
:
:
 
  Register  Forgot Password
Search
Poem Genres
Anger Poems
Animals Poems
Contemplations Poems
Death Poems
Depression Poems
Dreams Poems
Fear Poems
Fractured Love Poems
Friendship Poems
General
Hate Poems
Holidays Poems
Humor Poems
Introspection Poems
Life Poems
Love Poems
Nature Poems
Political Poems
Religion Poems
Sex Poems
Time Poems
War Poems
Work Poems

 

An Army Corps on the March. in  General   

WITH its cloud of skirmishers in advance,
With now the sound of a single shot, snapping like a whip, and now an irregular volley,
The swarming ranks press on and on, the dense brigades press on;
Glittering dimly, toiling under the sun—the dust-cover’d men,
In columns rise and fall to the undulations of the ground,
With artillery interspers’d—the wheels rumble, the horses sweat,
As the army corps advances.

By Walt Whitman

Tell Your Friends About It | Print This Poem

Comments

You should be logged in to be able to leave comments

Other poems by Walt Whitman:

Users Online