} From Far Dakota’s Canyons [June 25, 1876]

From far Dakota’s canyons,
Lands of the wild ravine, the dusky Sioux, the lonesome stretch, the
    silence,
Haply to-day a mournful wall, haply a trumpet-note for heroes.

The battle-bulletin,
The Indian ambuscade, the craft, the fatal environment,
The cavalry companies fighting to the last in sternest heroism,
In the midst of their little circle, with their slaughter’d horses
    for breastworks,
The fall of Custer and all his officers and men.

Continues yet the old, old legend of our race,
The loftiest of life upheld by death,
The ancient banner perfectly maintain’d,
O lesson opportune, O how I welcome thee!

As sitting in dark days,
Lone, sulky, through the time’s thick murk looking in vain for
    light, for hope,
From unsuspected parts a fierce and momentary proof,
(The sun there at the centre though conceal’d,
Electric life forever at the centre,)
Breaks forth a lightning flash.

Thou of the tawny flowing hair in battle,
I erewhile saw, with erect head, pressing ever in front, bearing a
    bright sword in thy hand,
Now ending well in death the splendid fever of thy deeds,
(I bring no dirge for it or thee, I bring a glad triumphal sonnet,)
Desperate and glorious, aye in defeat most desperate, most glorious,
After thy many battles in which never yielding up a gun or a color,
Leaving behind thee a memory sweet to soldiers,
Thou yieldest up thyself.

} Old War-Dreams

In midnight sleep of many a face of anguish,
Of the look at first of the mortally wounded, (of that indescribable look,)
Of the dead on their backs with arms extended wide,
     I dream, I dream, I dream.

Of scenes of Nature, fields and mountains,
Of skies so beauteous after a storm, and at night the moon so
    unearthly bright,
Shining sweetly, shining down, where we dig the trenches and
    gather the heaps,
     I dream, I dream, I dream.

Long have they pass’d, faces and trenches and fields,
Where through the carnage I moved with a callous composure, or away
    from the fallen,
Onward I sped at the time—­but now of their forms at night,
     I dream, I dream, I dream.

} Thick-Sprinkled Bunting

Thick-sprinkled bunting! flag of stars! 
Long yet your road, fateful flag—­long yet your road, and lined with
    bloody death,
For the prize I see at issue at last is the world,
All its ships and shores I see interwoven with your threads greedy banner;
Dream’d again the flags of kings, highest borne to flaunt unrival’d? 
O hasten flag of man—­O with sure and steady step, passing highest
    flags of kings,
Walk supreme to the heavens mighty symbol—­run up above them all,
Flag of stars! thick-sprinkled bunting!

} What Best I See in Thee [To U. S. G. return’d from his World’s Tour]