("The big fish--eat the little fish-- the little fish--eat the shrimps-- and the shrimps--eat mud,"-- said a cadaverous man--with a black umbrella-- spotted with white polka dots--with a missing ear--with a missing foot and arms-- with a missing sheath of muscles singing to the silver sashes of the sun.) And so to-day--they lay him away-- the boy nobody knows the name of-- the buck private--the unknown soldier-- the doughboy who dug under and died when they told him to--that's him. If he picked himself and said, "I am ready to die," if he gave his name and said, "My country, take me," then the baskets of roses to-day are for the Boy, the flowers, the songs, the steamboat whistles, the proclamations of the honorable orators, they are all for the Boy--that's him. If the government of the Republic picked him saying, "You are wanted, your country takes you"-- if the Republic put a stethoscope to his heart and looked at his teeth and tested his eyes and said, "You are a citizen of the Republic and a sound animal in all parts and functions--the Republic takes you"-- then to-day the baskets of flowers are all for the Republic, the roses, the songs, the steamboat whistles, the proclamations of the honorable orators-- they are all for the Republic. And so to-day--they lay him away-- and an understanding goes--his long sleep shall be under arms and arches near the Capitol Dome-- there is an authorization--he shall have tomb companions-- the martyred presidents of the Republic-- the buck private--the unknown soldier--that's him. The man who was war commander of the armies of the Republic rides down Pennsylvania Avenue-- The man who is peace commander of the armies of the Republic rides down Pennsylvania Avenue-- for the sake of the Boy, for the sake of the Republic. (And the hoofs of the skeleton horses all drum soft on the asphalt footing-- so soft is the drumming, so soft the roll call of the grinning sergeants calling the roll call-- so soft is it all--a camera man murmurs, "Moonshine.") Look--who salutes the coffin-- lays a wreath of remembrance on the box where a buck private sleeps a clean dry sleep at last-- look--it is the highest ranking general of the officers of the armies of the Republic. (Among pigeon corners of the Congressional Library--they file documents quietly, casually, all in a day's work-- this human document, the buck private nobody knows the name of--they file away in granite and steel--with music and roses, salutes, proclamations of the honorable orators.)