The Walt Whitman Archive
Published Works
Books by Whitman
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AS TOILSOME I WANDER'D VIRGINIA'S WOODS.
1AS TOILSOME I wander'd Virginia's woods,
To the music of rustling leaves, kick'd by my feet, (for
'twas autumn,)
'twas autumn,)
I mark'd at the foot of a tree the grave of a soldier,
Mortally wounded he, and buried on the retreat, (easily
all could I understand;
all could I understand;
The halt of a mid-day hour, when up! no time to lose
—yet this sign left,
—yet this sign left,
On a tablet scrawl'd and nail'd on the tree by the grave,
Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.
2Long, long I muse, then on my way go wandering;
Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene
of life;
of life;
Yet at times through changeful season and scene, ab-
rupt, alone, or in the crowded street,
rupt, alone, or in the crowded street,
Comes before me the unknown soldier's grave—comes
the inscription rude in Virginia's woods,
the inscription rude in Virginia's woods,
Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.