Carl Sandburg

I AM an ancient reluctant conscript.

On the soup wagons of Xerxes I was a cleaner of pans.

On the march of Miltiades’ phalanx I had a haft and head;

I had a bristling gleaming spear-handle.

Red-headed Caesar picked me for a teamster.

He said, “Go to work, you Tuscan bastard!

Rome calls for a man who can drive horses.”

The units of conquest led by Charles the Twelfth,

The whirling whimsical Napoleonic columns:

They saw me one of the horseshoers.

I trimmed the feet of a white horse Bonaparte swept the night stars with.

Lincoln said, “Get into the game; your nation takes you.”

And I drove a wagon and team and I had my arm shot off

At Spottsylvania Court House.

I am an ancient reluctant conscript.