Bugle-echoes: A Collection of Poems of the Civil War, Northern and SouthernFrancis Fisher Browne White, Stokes, & Allen, 1886 - 336 strani |
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Druge izdaje - Prikaži vse
Pogosti izrazi in povedi
Abraham Lincoln arms banner Barbara Frietchie battle bless blood blow blue brave breast breath BRET HARTE brother brow bugles bury our dead cannon cheer Column comrades dark dear death deck died dream drum EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN eyes face fall Father fell field fight fire flag flame flowers FORCEYTHE WILLSON fought gallant gleam glory grave gray guns hand hear heart heaven HENRY HOWARD BROWNELL HENRY TIMROD heroes Hurrah John Burns JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER land light lips looked Maryland mighty morning never night o'er passed PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE peace ranks rebel Regiment RICHARD HENRY STODDARD river roar roll rose round sabre ship shore shout shroud sleep smile soldier song soul stars Stonewall stood sweet sword tears thee There's thou thousand thunder to-day Twas Ulric Dahlgren victory wave weary weep wind wounded
Priljubljeni odlomki
Stran 283 - WHEN lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd, And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night, I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Stran 65 - Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me: As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, "While God is marching on.
Stran 64 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.
Stran 241 - Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls, Impatient to be where the battlefield calls; Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play, With Sheridan only ten miles away. " Under his spurning feet, the road, Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed; And the landscape sped away behind, Like an ocean flying before the wind; And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace ire, Swept on, with his wild eye full of fire.
Stran 122 - UP from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. Round about them orchards sweep, Apple and peach tree fruited deep, Fair as a garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famished rebel horde...
Stran 286 - I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them, And the white skeletons of young men, I saw them, I saw the debris and debris of all the slain soldiers of the war...
Stran 124 - But spare your country's flag," she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame Over the face of the leader came; The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman's deed and word : "Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog! March on!
Stran 238 - UP from the South at break of day, Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, The affrighted air with a shudder bore, Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar, Telling the battle was on once more, And Sheridan twenty miles away.
Stran 124 - Fair as a garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famished rebel horde, On that pleasant morn of the early fall, When Lee marched over the mountain wall; Over the mountains, winding down, Horse and foot into Frederick town. Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind; the sun Of noon looked down and saw not one.
Stran 288 - My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is...