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BIVOUAC ON A MOUNTAIN SIDE.

Walt Whitman

I see before me now a traveling army halting,

Below a fertile valley spread, with barns and the orchards of summer,

Behind, the terraced sides of a mountain, abrupt, in places rising

high,

Broken, with rocks, with clinging cedars, with tall shapes dingily

seen,

The numerous camp-fires scatter'd near and far, some away up on the

mountain,

The shadowy forms of men and horses, looming, large-sized,

flickering,

And over all the sky--the sky! far, far out of reach, studded,

breaking out, the eternal stars.