Thus in silence in dreams' projections, Returning, resuming, I thread my way through the hospitals;
The hurt and wounded I pacify with soothing hand,
I sit by the restless all the dark night - some are so young;
Some suffer so much - I recall the experience sweet and sad,...
It's from the last section sometime D.C.-resident Walt Whitman's "The Wound Dresser" from Leaves of Grass -- had there been more room we'd get the end…
(Many a soldier's loving arms about this neck have cross'd and rested,
Many a soldier's kiss dwells on these bearded lips.)