English poetry

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An Army Corps on the March

WITH its cloud of skirmishers in advance,
With now the sound of a single shot, snapping like a whip, and now an irregular volley,
The swarming ranks press on and on, the dense brigades press on;
Glittering dimly, toiling under the sun-the dust-cover’d men,
In columns rise and fall to the undulations of the ground,
With artillery interspers’d-the wheels rumble, the horses sweat,
As the army corps advances.


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Poem An Army Corps on the March - Walt Whitman