A poem by Walt Whitman
, from his Leaves of Grass
Did you ask dulcet rhymes from me?
Did you seek the civilian's peaceful and languishing rhymes?
Did you find what I sang erewhile so hard to follow?
Why I was not singing erewhile for you to follow, to understand -
nor am I now;
(I have been born of the same as the war was born,
The drum-corps' rattle is ever to me sweet music, I love well
the martial dirge,
With slow wail and convulsive throb leading the officer's
What to such as you anyhow such a poet as I? therefore leave
And go lull yourself with what you can understand, and with
For I lull nobody, and you will never understand me.