- description
- # THE COLLEGE COLONEL
## Overview
"The College Colonel" is a poem by Herman Melville, presented as a chapter within the poetry collection *John Marr and Other Poems*. It was extracted from the file `john_marr_and_other_poems.txt`.
## Context
This poem is part of the posthumously published collection *John Marr and Other Poems*, which is included in the larger *Melville Complete Works* collection. The poem follows "In the Prison Pen" and precedes "The Martyr" within the collection.
## Contents
The poem depicts a Civil War colonel returning home. Despite physical injuries sustained in battle, including a lost leg and a maimed arm, the colonel's profound suffering stems from a deep realization of truth gained during his wartime experiences. The poem details his return amidst cheers and accolades, contrasting the public reception with his internal state, marked by a "still rigidity and pale—An Indian aloofness." It references significant battles and locations such as the Seven Days' Fight, the Wilderness, Petersburg, and Libby Prison, highlighting the transformative and harrowing impact of war on the soldier.
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:13.043Z
- description_model
- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- THE COLLEGE COLONEL
- end_line
- 3048
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:47:32.310Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 3006
- text
- THE COLLEGE COLONEL
He rides at their head;
A crutch by his saddle just slants in view,
One slung arm is in splints, you see,
Yet he guides his strong steed—how coldly too.
He brings his regiment home—
Not as they filed two years before,
But a remnant half-tattered, and battered, and worn,
Like castaway sailors, who—stunned
By the surf’s loud roar,
Their mates dragged back and seen no more—
Again and again breast the surge,
And at last crawl, spent, to shore.
A still rigidity and pale—
An Indian aloofness lones his brow;
He has lived a thousand years
Compressed in battle’s pains and prayers,
Marches and watches slow.
There are welcoming shouts, and flags;
Old men off hat to the Boy,
Wreaths from gay balconies fall at his feet,
But to _him_—there comes alloy.
It is not that a leg is lost,
It is not that an arm is maimed,
It is not that the fever has racked—
Self he has long disclaimed.
But all through the Seven Days’ Fight,
And deep in the Wilderness grim,
And in the field-hospital tent,
And Petersburg crater, and dim
Lean brooding in Libby, there came—
Ah heaven!—what _truth_ to him.
- title
- THE COLLEGE COLONEL