War Poetry of the SouthWilliam Gilmore Simms Richardson, 1867 - 482 páginas |
Índice
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Outras edições - Ver tudo
Palavras e frases frequentes
Advance the flag arms band banner battle BATTLE OF BELMONT BATTLE OF CHARLESTON BATTLE OF RICHMOND Beauregard beneath bleeding bless blood Bonnie Blue Flag brave breast breath brothers brow cannon's Carolina CHARLESTON MERCURY Close the ranks country's crimson dark dastard dead dear death deeds deep dread dream drum eyes faith fame fate fathers fear field fight fire flag of Dixie flame flash freedom gallant Georgia glorious glory grave hand hath hear heart Heaven HENRY TIMROD Hero never dies heroes holy host JOE JOHNSTON land light martyred Maryland melt the bells mighty neath never noble o'er Old Cause peace prayer pride proud ringing roar sacred shining shore sires sleep smile soldier song sons soul South Southern Southrons star Stars and Bars storm strike sweet sword tears tell thee There's thine thou thunder voice wave
Passagens conhecidas
Página 478 - tis hard for us to fold it; Hard to think there's none to hold it; Hard that those who once unrolled it Now must furl it with a sigh.
Página 65 - The despot's heel is on thy shore, Maryland ! His torch is at thy temple door, Maryland ! Avenge the patriotic gore That flecked the streets of Baltimore, And be the battle-queen of yore, Maryland, my Maryland ! Hark to an exiled son's appeal, Maryland! My Mother State, to thee I kneel, Maryland ! For life and death, for woe and weal, Thy peerless chivalry reveal, And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, Maryland, my Maryland ! Thou wilt not cower in the dust...
Página 331 - SPRING, with that nameless pathos in the air Which dwells with all things fair, Spring, with her golden suns and silver rain, Is with us once again. Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burns Its fragrant lamps, and turns Into a royal court with green festoons The banks of dark lagoons. In the deep heart of every forest tree The blood is all aglee, And there's a look about the leafless bowers As if they dreamed of flowers.
Página 333 - Still there's a sense of blossoms yet unborn In the sweet airs of morn; One almost looks to see the very street Grow purple at his feet. At times a fragrant breeze comes floating by, And brings, you know not why, A feeling as when eager crowds await Before a palace gate Some wondrous pageant; and you scarce would start, If from a beech's heart, A blue-eyed Dryad, stepping forth, should say,
Página 332 - As yet the turf is dark, although you know That, not a span below, A thousand germs are groping through the gloom, And soon will burst their tomb.
Página 317 - To the mean channels of no selfish mart, Goes out to every shore Of this broad earth, and throngs the sea with ships That bear no thunders ; hushes hungry lips In alien lands ; Joins with a delicate web remotest strands ; And gladdening rich and poor, Doth gild Parisian domes, Or feed the cottage-smoke of English homes, And only bounds its blessings by mankind...
Página 236 - JUST as the spring came laughing through the strife, With all its gorgeous cheer, In the bright April of historic life Fell the great cannoneer. The wondrous lulling of a -hero's breath His bleeding country weeps; Hushed in the alabaster arms of Death, Our young Marcellus sleeps.
Página 370 - Matted and damp are the curls of gold Kissing the snow of that fair young brow ; Pale are the lips of delicate mould — Somebody's darling is dying now. Back from his beautiful blue-veined brow Brush all the wandering waves of gold, Cross his hands on his bosom now — Somebody's darling is still and cold.
Página 92 - To arms, in Dixie ! Advance the flag of Dixie ! Hurrah ! hurrah ! For Dixie's land we take our stand, And live or die for Dixie ! To arms ! To arms ! And conquer peace for Dixie...
Página 370 - Somebody's darling was borne one day ; Somebody's darling, so young and so brave, Wearing yet, on his pale sweet face — Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave — The lingering light of his boyhood's grace. Matted and damp are the curls of gold, Kissing the snow of that fair young brow ; Pale are the lips of delicate mould — Somebody's darling is dying now.