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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409960" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The College Colonel</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409960" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He rides at their head;<br>A crutch by his saddle just slants in view,<br>One slung arm in splints, you see,<br>Yet he guides his strong steed - how coldly too.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409960" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He brings his regiment home -<br>Not as they filed two years before,<br>But a remnant half-tattered, and battered, and worn,<br>Like castaway sailors, who - stunned<br>By the surf's loud roar,<br>Their mates dragged back and seen no more -<br>Again and again breast the surge,<br>And at last crawl, spent, to shore.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409960" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">A still rigidity and pale -<br>An Indian aloofness lines his brow;<br>He has lived a thousand years<br>Compressed in battle's pains and prayers,<br>Marches and watches slow.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409960" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There are welcoming shots, and flags;<br>Old men off hat to the Boy,<br>Wreaths from gay balconies fall at his feet,<br>But to him - there comes alloy.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409960" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It is not that a leg is lost,<br>It is not that an arm is maimed,<br>It is not that the fever has racked -<br>Self he has long since disclaimed.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409960" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But all through the Seven Days' Fight,<br>And deep in the Wilderness grim,<br>And in the field-hospital tent,<br>And Petersburg crater, and dim<br>Lean brooding in Libby, there came -<br>Ah heaven! - what truth to him.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Herman+Melville">Herman Melville</a></strong></div>

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