A Twilight Song + 

As I sit in twilight late alone by the flickering oak-flame, + 

Musing on long-pass’d war-scenes⁠—of the countless buried unknown soldiers, + 

Of the vacant names, as unindented air’s and sea’s⁠—the unreturn’d, + 

The brief truce after battle, with grim burial-squads, and the deep-fill’d trenches + 

Of gather’d dead from all America, North, South, East, West, whence they came up, + 

From wooded Maine, New-England’s farms, from fertile Pennsylvania, Illinois, Ohio, + 

From the measureless West, Virginia, the South, the Carolinas, Texas, + 

(Even here in my room-shadows and half-lights in the noiseless flickering flames, + 

Again I see the stalwart ranks on-filing, rising⁠—I hear the rhythmic tramp of the armies;) + 

You million unwrit names all, all⁠—you dark bequest from all the war, + 

A special verse for you⁠—a flash of duty long neglected⁠—your mystic roll strangely gather’d here, + 

Each name recall’d by me from out the darkness and death’s ashes, + 

Henceforth to be, deep, deep within my heart recording, for many a future year, + 

Your mystic roll entire of unknown names, or North or South, + 

Embalm’d with love in this twilight song. + 