Interpolation Sounds
By Walter Whitman
Over and through the burial chant,
Organ and solemn service, sermon, bending priests,
To me come interpolation sounds not in the show — plainly to me, crowding up the aisle and from the window,
Of sudden battle’s hurry and harsh noises — war’s grim game to sight and ear in earnest;
The scout call’d up and forward — the general mounted and his aides around him — the new-brought word — the instantaneous order issued;
The rifle crack — the cannon thud — the rushing forth of men from their tents;
The clank of cavalry — the strange celerity of forming ranks — the slender bugle note;
The sound of horses’ hoofs departing — saddles, arms, accoutrements.
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