Virgil Strange I Kept On The Field
Walt Whitman
Vigil strange I kept on the field one night:
When you, my son and my comrade, dropt at my side that day,
One look I but gave, which your dear eyes return\'d, with a look I shall never forget;
One touch of your hand to mine, O boy, reach\'d up as you lay on the ground;
Then onward I sped in the battle, the even-contested battle;
Till late in the night reliev\'d, to the place at last again I made my way;