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Leaves of Grass (1891-92)
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AN ARMY CORPS ON THE MARCH.
WITH its cloud of skirmishers in advance, |
With now the sound of a single shot snapping like a whip, and
now an irregular volley,
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The swarming ranks press on and on, the dense brigades press
on,
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Glittering dimly, toiling under the sun—the dust-cover'd men, |
In columns rise and fall to the undulations of the ground, |
With artillery interspers'd—the wheels rumble, the horses sweat, |
As the army corps advances. |
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