Bugle-echoes: A Collection of Poems of the Civil War, Northern and Southern

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Francis Fisher Browne
White, Stokes, & Allen, 1886 - 336 páginas
 

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Passagens conhecidas

Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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...
Página 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...
Página 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!
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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...

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