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| GREAT Nature is an army gay, | |
| Resistless marching on its way; | |
| I hear the bugles clear and sweet, | |
| I hear the tread of million feet. | |
| Across the plain I see it pour; | 5 |
| It tramples down the waving grass; | |
| Within the echoing mountain-pass | |
| I hear a thousand cannon roar. | |
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| It swarms within my garden gate; | |
| My deepest well it drinketh dry. | 10 |
| It doth not rest; it doth not wait; | |
| By night and day it sweepeth by; | |
| Ceaseless it marches by my door; | |
| It heeds me not, though I implore. | |
| I know not whence it comes, nor where | 15 |
| It goes. For me it doth not care— | |
| Whether I starve, or eat, or sleep, | |
| Or live, or die, or sing, or weep. | |
| And now the banners are all bright, | |
| Now torn and blackened by the fight. | 20 |
| Sometimes its laughter shakes the sky, | |
| Sometimes the groans of those who die. | |
| Still through the night and through the livelong day | |
| The infinite army marches on its remorseless way. | |
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