While Not the Past Forgetting

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from Leaves of Grass: BOOK XXXIV. SANDS AT SEVENTY - by Walt Whitman.

  While not the past forgetting,
  To-day, at least, contention sunk entire—peace, brotherhood uprisen;
  For sign reciprocal our Northern, Southern hands,
  Lay on the graves of all dead soldiers, North or South,
  (Nor for the past alone—for meanings to the future,)
  Wreaths of roses and branches of palm.

 

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