Songs of the Soldiers

Frank Moore
G.P. Putnam, 1864 - 318 Seiten

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Seite 282 - My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love! I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills, My heart with rapture thrills Like that above!
Seite 21 - In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above, the spectral glaciers shone. And from his lips escaped a groan Excelsior! Try not the Pass!
Seite 250 - Look away, look away, look away, Dixie Land! Chorus Den I wish I was in Dixie, hooray, hooray! In Dixie Land I'll take my stand, To lib and die in Dixie; Away, away, away down south in Dixie; Away, away, away down south in Dixie.
Seite 99 - Morris cried, Small need to pass the word; Our men at quarters ranged themselves, Before the drum was heard. And then began the sailors' jests: " What thing is that, I say ? " "A 'long-shore meeting-house adrift Is standing down the bay. A frown came over Morris' face; The strange dark craft he knew; "That is the iron Merrimav, Manned by a rebel crew.
Seite 105 - It was our last, our deadliest shot ; the deck was overflown The poor ship staggered, lurched to port, and gave a living groan. Down, down, as headlong through the waves our gallant vessel rushed ; A thousand gurgling watery sounds around my senses gushed.
Seite 101 - As hail bounds from a cottage-thatch, and round her leaped and danced ! Or when against her dusky hull we struck a fair, full blow, The mighty, solid iron globes were crumbled up like snow, On, on, with fast increasing speed, the silent monster came, Though all our starboard battery was one long line of flame. She heeded not ; no...
Seite 168 - He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible, swift sword, His truth is marching on. Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on!
Seite 120 - Firm with our breast to the foe, victory's shout in our ear ! Long they our statues shall crown, in songs our memory cherish; We shall look forth from our heaven, pleased the sweet music to hear.
Seite 102 - ... our beautiful, keen bow, That in the fiercest blast So gently folded back the seas, They hardly felt we passed. Alas! alas! my Cumberland, That ne'er knew grief before, To be so gored, to feel so deep The tusk of that sea-boar. Once more she backward drew apace; Once more our side she rent.
Seite 227 - While we rally round the flag, boys, Rally once again, Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.

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