After surmounting three-score and ten,
With all their chances, changes, losses, sorrows,
My parents' d**hs, the vagaries of my life, the many tearing
pa**ions of me, the war of '63 and '4,
As some old broken soldier, after a long, hot, wearying march, or
haply after battle,
To-day at twilight, hobbling, answering company roll-call, Here,
with vital voice,
Reporting yet, saluting yet the Officer over all.