Walt Whitman

(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892 / New York / United States)

A March In The Ranks, Hard-Prest

Poem by Walt Whitman


A MARCH in the ranks hard-prest, and the road unknown;
A route through a heavy wood, with muffled steps in the darkness;
Our army foil'd with loss severe, and the sullen remnant retreating;
Till after midnight glimmer upon us, the lights of a dim-lighted
building;
We come to an open space in the woods, and halt by the dim-lighted
building;
'Tis a large old church at the crossing roads--'tis now an impromptu
hospital;
--Entering but for a minute, I see a sight beyond all the pictures
and poems ever made:
Shadows of deepest, deepest black, just lit by moving candles and
lamps,
And by one great pitchy torch, stationary, with wild red flame, and
clouds of smoke;
By these, crowds, groups of forms, vaguely I see, on the floor, some
in the pews laid down; 10
At my feet more distinctly, a soldier, a mere lad, in danger of
bleeding to death, (he is shot in the abdomen;)
I staunch the blood temporarily, (the youngster's face is white as a
lily;)
Then before I depart I sweep my eyes o'er the scene, fain to absorb
it all;
Faces, varieties, postures beyond description, most in obscurity,
some of them dead;
Surgeons operating, attendants holding lights, the smell of ether,
the odor of blood;
The crowd, O the crowd of the bloody forms of soldiers--the yard
outside also fill'd;
Some on the bare ground, some on planks or stretchers, some in the
death-spasm sweating;
An occasional scream or cry, the doctor's shouted orders or calls;
The glisten of the little steel instruments catching the glint of the
torches;
These I resume as I chant--I see again the forms, I smell the
odor; 20
Then hear outside the orders given, Fall in, my men, Fall in;
But first I bend to the dying lad--his eyes open--a half-smile gives
he me;
Then the eyes close, calmly close, and I speed forth to the darkness,
Resuming, marching, ever in darkness marching, on in the ranks,
The unknown road still marching.


Comments about A March In The Ranks, Hard-Prest by Walt Whitman

  • Dr Tony BrahminDr Tony Brahmin (7/7/2019 3:12:00 PM)

    The great Walt Whitman.. wonderful poem. tony(Report)Reply

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  • rakhiswati (7/7/2019 12:32:00 PM)

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  • Ramesh T ARamesh T A (7/7/2019 12:15:00 PM)

    Marching of soldiers in the dark wood, church turned hospital where soldiers are treated by doctor and attendants, some just dying with bloodshed and pain show war picture very well by the able hand of Poet Walt Whitman! thanks for sharing this poem here!(Report)Reply

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  • Ratnakar Mandlik (7/7/2019 9:19:00 AM)

    A great war poem narrating marching of a formation of army in dark through thick woods and the make shift hospital in a church where the injured and dying soldiers were being treated/ kept. A touching poem throwing light on devastation caused by war.(Report)Reply

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  • Glen KappyGlen Kappy (7/7/2019 7:23:00 AM)

    i wasn't familiar with this whitman poem before. with the ending as in the beginning—marching in the dark not knowing where they're going— and enough detail, he well conveys the senselessness of war. -gk(Report)Reply

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  • Kumarmani MahakulKumarmani Mahakul (7/7/2019 5:12:00 AM)

    So touching expressed with nice penmanship. Beautiful poem.(Report)Reply

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  • Adeeb AlfatehAdeeb Alfateh (7/7/2019 2:28:00 AM)

    Some on the bare ground, some on planks or stretchers, some in the
    death-spasm sweating;
    An occasional scream or cry, the doctor's shouted orders or calls;
    The glisten of the little steel instruments catching the glint of the
    torches;
    These I resume as I chant- I see again the forms, I smell the
    odor; 20


    great write
    great 10++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++(Report)Reply

    2 person liked.
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  • Aniruddha PathakAniruddha Pathak (7/7/2019 1:40:00 AM)

    The poem brings to bear the reality of war, not on the battle front, but even in a make-shift hospital in a church.
    It ends with the tired soldier, tired both in body and mind, succumbs to sleep, the only way to escape the realities of the war. Good poem.(Report)Reply

    2 person liked.
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  • Edward Kofi LouisEdward Kofi Louis (7/7/2019 1:22:00 AM)

    Till after midnight! !

    Thanks for sharing this poem with us.(Report)Reply

    1 person liked.
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  • Jane Campion (7/7/2019 12:25:00 AM)

    A truly imaginative poem with great images.(Report)Reply

    1 person liked.
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  • * Sunprincess * (3/15/2014 8:11:00 AM)

    ........beautiful ending..
    ~But first I bend to the dying lad- his eyes open- a half-smile gives
    he me;
    Then the eyes close, calmly close, and I speed forth to the darkness,
    Resuming, marching, ever in darkness marching, on in the ranks,
    The unknown road still marching. ~(Report)Reply

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Praneeth Kandula (10/23/2012 2:31:00 PM)

    i couldn't agree more with Alain llan Braun in the previous comment....Whitman's brother actually was involved in the war and when Walt went to see his brother he was deeply affected by the wounded soldiers he saw..he also volunteered in army hospitals as a nurse... probbly thats where the inspiration came from...anyways coming back to the poem.. it has a beautiful meaning to it which is poignant and inciting.... i especially liked the last four lines where the soldier who's dying accepts his death with a smile and the person watching can do nothing more than to resume marching in the darkness... the unknown road still marching...which depicts the helplessness and futility of life...! !(Report)Reply

    8 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
  • Brian Purdy (1/7/2012 5:17:00 PM)

    The reader is given a dark and hellish scene painted with broad and powerful strokes. For its center-piece, the small grace of the speaker's kindness to a dying soldier, that soldier's calm acceptance of death. This is a masterful job of reporting on events so calamitous they dry the spit from the mouth, come close to stopping human hearts with horror and shame. And a score given of 5.6 from 10? Quite apart from the absurdity of asking the general reader to assess a poem's excellence by assigning to it a numerical score - how can anyone imply that this accomplished work deserves a below average score? So funny I have to weep; so sad I have to laugh.(Report)Reply

    10 person liked.
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  • Alain Ilan BraunAlain Ilan Braun (9/19/2011 7:07:00 PM)

    This poem really impressed me! Who could tell what is the origin or source of inspiration for this very weird 'war poem'? Did Walt Whitman fight during the Civil War? I am quite surprized by the fact that I am the only one poet-member up to now to try to write a comment! This poem is so strong as well as disturbing in a noble way. My feeling is that poetry, such as his, must be disturbing the mind's tranquillity of all readers! Otherwise, what is the meaning of poetry? Just a sweet song? Birds do much better, I can tell you as I am an expert in wild bird songs! As it is dealing with war, blood, suffering and death. I am deeply touched by Walt Whitman's message. I just cannot believe that I am the only one to react! As a French reader and poet I have to find out if this poem has been translated in French? If not I will do it. I hope some people will 'awake' to this comment and send their own!(Report)Reply

    12 person liked.
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Read poems about / on: soldier, loss, death, smile, red, poem



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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