The Complete Prose Works of Walt Whitman

Meantime, in Washington, among the great persons and their entourage, a mixture of awful consternation, uncertainty, rage, shame, helplessness, and stupefying disappointment. The worst is not only imminent, but already here. In a few hours–perhaps before the next meal–the secesh generals, with their victorious hordes, will be upon us. The dream of humanity, the vaunted Union we thought so strong, so impregnable–lo! it seems already smash’d like a china plate. One bitter, bitter hour–perhaps proud America will never again know such an hour. She must pack and fly–no time to spare.