As Toilsome I Wander'd
AS
TOILSOME
I
wander'd
Virginia's
woods,
To
the
music
of
rustling
leaves,
kick'd
by
my
feet,
(for
'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
The
halt
of
a
mid-day
hour,
when
up!
no
time
to
lose—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.
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.
Walt Whitman
Walt Whitman, (born May 31, 1819, West Hills, Long Island, New York, U.S.—died March 26, 1892, Camden, New Jersey), American poet, journalist, and essayist whose verse collection Leaves of Grass, first published in 1855, is a landmark in the history of American literature. Walt Whitman’s poetry was innovative for its verse style and for the way it challenged traditional narratives. He championed the individual soul over social conventions, presenting himself as a rough and free spirit. His poetry has continued to resonate with new generations of Americans, and he is considered a symbol of American democracy.