(Pass -- pass, ye proud brigades!
So handsome, dress’d in blue -- with your tramping, sinewy legs;
With your shoulders young and strong -- with your knapsacks and your muskets;
 -- How elate I stood and watch’d you, where, starting off, you march’d!
  
Pass; -- then rattle, drums, again!
Scream, you steamers on the river, out of whistles
  loud and shrill, your salutes!
For an army heaves in sight -- O another gathering army!
Swarming, trailing on the rear -- O you dread, accruing army!
O you regiments so piteous, with your mortal diarrhoea!
  with your fever!
O my land’s maimed darlings! with the plenteous
  bloody bandage and the crutch!
Lo! your pallid army follow’d!)