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by Carl Sandburg, 1918

Days of the dead men, Danny.
 Drum for the dead, drum on your
     remembering heart.

 Jaurès, a great love-heart of France,
     a slug of lead in the red valves.
 Kitchener of Khartoum, tall, cold, proud,
     a shark’s mouthful.
 Franz Josef, the old man of forty haunted
     kingdoms, in a tomb with the Hapsburg
     fathers, moths eating a green uniform
     to tatters, worms taking all and leaving
     only bones and gold buttons, bones and
     iron crosses.
 Jack London, Jim Riley, Verhaeren, riders to the republic of dreams.

 Days of the dead, Danny.
 Drum on your remembering heart.

Published in Cornhuskers

Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.