To Those Who’ve Fail’d
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To those who’ve fail’d, in aspiration vast,
To unnam’d soldiers fallen in front on the lead,
To calm, devoted engineers—to over-ardent travelers—to pilots on
their ships,
To many a lofty song and picture without recognition—I’d rear
laurel-cover’d monument,
High, high above the rest—To all cut off before their time,
Possess’d by some strange spirit of fire,
Quench’d by an early death.
| from Leaves of Grass: BOOK XXXIV. SANDS AT SEVENTY by Walt Whitman | |
| From Montauk Point | A Carol Closing Sixty-Nine 
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