Explore "A Grave" by Walt Whitman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
1. As toilsome I wandered Virginia's woods, / To the music of rustling leaves kicked by my feet -- for 'twas autumn -- / I marked at the foot of a tree the grave of a soldier; / Mortally wounded he, and buried on the retreat -- easily all could I understand; / The halt of a mid-day hour -- when, Up! no time to lose! Yet this sign left / On a tablet scrawled and nailed on the tree by the grave, / _Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade_.
2. Long, long I muse, -- then on my way go wandering, / Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene of life. / Yet at times through changeful season and scene, abrupt, -- alone, or in the / crowded street, -- / Comes before me the unknown soldier's grave, comes the inscription rude in / Virginia's woods, / _Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade_.