John N. Edwards: Biography, Memoirs, Reminiscences and Recollections; His Brilliant Career as Soldier, Author, and Journalist; Choice Collection of His Most Notable and Interesting Newspaper Articles, Together with Some Unpublished Poems and Many Private Letters ...J. Edwards, 1889 - 420 strani |
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American arms army battle Bazaine beautiful blood Bourbon Democrat brave brilliant called camp Captain Colonel command comrades Confederate dark dead death Democratic Depreuil desperate died Douay Emperor Empire eyes face faith fell fight fire flag fought France French friends front gold grave guard guerrillas hands heart honor horses hour hundred James Kirtley Jeanningros Jefferson City John Edwards John N journalist Juarez Kansas City killed Kirtley knew land lived look Major Edwards Major John Marshal Marshal Bazaine Matehuala Maximilian Mexican Mexico Miramon Missouri morning murder muskets Napoleon never night officer once party peace political Queretaro ranks rear regiment river rode Salm San Luis Potosi Shelby Shelby's shot Shreveport sleep soldiers sorrow spoke stood surrender sword Texas things thousand tion to-day took Vera Cruz Victor Hugo voice waiting woman words wounded writer young Zouaves
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Stran 175 - Their silent tents are spread, And Glory guards, with solemn round, The bivouac of the dead. No rumor of the foe's advance Now swells upon the wind ; No troubled thought at midnight haunts Of loved ones left behind ; No vision of the morrow's strife The warrior's dream alarms ; No braying horn nor screaming fife At dawn shall call to arms.
Stran 64 - Statesman, yet friend to Truth! of soul sincere, In action faithful, and in honour clear; Who broke no promise, served no private end, Who gained no title, and who lost no friend ; Ennobled by himself, by all approved, And praised, unenvied, by the Muse he loved.
Stran 43 - It was the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night, till I confess it began to be something of a bore to me.
Stran 80 - In men whom men condemn as ill I find so much of goodness still, In men whom men pronounce divine I find so much of sin and blot, I hesitate to draw a line Between the two, where God has not.
Stran 159 - Fair mother, fed with the lives of men, Thou art subtle and cruel of heart, men say; Thou hast taken, and shalt not render again; Thou art full of thy dead, and cold as they. But death is the worst that comes of thee; Thou art fed with our dead, O Mother, O Sea, But when hast thou fed on our hearts? or when Having given us love, hast thou taken away?
Stran 175 - The muffled drum's sad roll has beat The soldier's last tattoo; No more on life's parade shall meet That brave and fallen few. On Fame's eternal camping ground * Their silent tents are spread, And Glory guards, with solemn round, The bivouac of the dead.
Stran 118 - OUT of the focal and foremost fire, Out of the hospital walls as dire; Smitten of grape-shot and gangrene, (Eighteenth battle, and he sixteen!) Spectre! such as you seldom see. Little Giffen, of Tennessee! "Take him and welcome!
Stran 176 - Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead ! Dear as the blood ye gave ; No impious footstep here shall tread The herbage of your grave; Nor shall your glory be forgot While Fame her record keeps, Or Honor points the hallowed spot Where Valor proudly sleeps.
Stran 186 - ... or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.
Stran 176 - Ground, Ye must not slumber there, Where stranger steps and tongues resound Along the heedless air. Your own proud land's heroic soil Shall be your fitter grave : She claims from war his richest spoil — The ashes of her brave.