Lyrics of loyalty, arranged and edited by F. Moore, Volumul 651864 |
Din interiorul cărții
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Pagina 8
... soul , And all the spheres that roll , Wrapped by his Spirit in their robes of light , Hath said : “ The primal plan Of all the world , and man , Is Forward ! Progress is your law The despots of the earth , Since Freedom had her birth ...
... soul , And all the spheres that roll , Wrapped by his Spirit in their robes of light , Hath said : “ The primal plan Of all the world , and man , Is Forward ! Progress is your law The despots of the earth , Since Freedom had her birth ...
Pagina 12
... soul leaps e'en in sadness , like an infant in its gladness , To think how proud I'll greet thee when the bloody strife is o'er . I'll not think of death and slaughter , tinged with blood the crystal water Of the purling streams that ...
... soul leaps e'en in sadness , like an infant in its gladness , To think how proud I'll greet thee when the bloody strife is o'er . I'll not think of death and slaughter , tinged with blood the crystal water Of the purling streams that ...
Pagina 14
... soul of mine , Stirred up each tingling drop of blood , Ready to pour a votive flood Upon my country's shrine . O dearest ! there's a manhood lies , Deep in these slender forms , We know not of , till in our skies Such clouds of danger ...
... soul of mine , Stirred up each tingling drop of blood , Ready to pour a votive flood Upon my country's shrine . O dearest ! there's a manhood lies , Deep in these slender forms , We know not of , till in our skies Such clouds of danger ...
Pagina 15
... soul is firm and strong ; And , dearest , even now I feel The power to crush beneath my My share of this foul wrong . heel The man who springs not to his sword In such a time as this , To see his country's fame restored , Is weak as he ...
... soul is firm and strong ; And , dearest , even now I feel The power to crush beneath my My share of this foul wrong . heel The man who springs not to his sword In such a time as this , To see his country's fame restored , Is weak as he ...
Pagina 39
... round me stood , As I took from the corse his battle - belt , Still wet with his heart's warm blood ; And the summer day closed its light on earth , And my soul grew sad with pain , 40 THE RED STAIN ON THE LEAVES . As they.
... round me stood , As I took from the corse his battle - belt , Still wet with his heart's warm blood ; And the summer day closed its light on earth , And my soul grew sad with pain , 40 THE RED STAIN ON THE LEAVES . As they.
Cuprins
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Alte ediții - Afișează-le pe toate
Lyrics of loyalty, arranged and edited by F. Moore, Volumul 65 Frank Moore Vizualizare completă - 1864 |
Lyrics of loyalty, arranged and edited by F. Moore, Volumul 65 Frank Moore Vizualizare completă - 1864 |
Termeni și expresii frecvente
Baltimore banner battle bless blood blow boys brave breast breath brother Canaän CARTE DE VISITE cheer Column comrades country's crimson cursed dark dead dear death dream drum earth echoing eyes fall FANEUIL HALL fathers fell fight fire flag Flower of Liberty FORCEYTHE WILLSON Freedom gallant gently gleaming glory grave hail hand hear heart Heaven heroes Hurrah HYMN JULIA WARD kissed land light lips lonely morning mother music of Union nation neath never night North Northmen o'er OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES patriot peace PICKET-GUARD pray prayer Rataplan rebel roar rose sabre shame shout sighs slave sleep smile soldier SONG soul Star-Spangled Banner stars strike sweet sword tears Tennessee thee THEODORE TILTON THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH thou to-day traitors true trumpet victory WAR SONG wave wife WILLIAM ROSS WALLACE winds word wounded
Pasaje populare
Pagina 224 - 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.
Pagina 237 - New occasions teach new duties ; Time makes ancient good uncouth ; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires ! we ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key.
Pagina 253 - THE word of the Lord by night To the watching Pilgrims came, As they sat by the seaside, And filled their hearts with flame. God said, I am tired of kings, I suffer them no more ; Up to my ear the morning brings The outrage of the poor.
Pagina 95 - Leaped up to his lips, — when low, murmured vows Were pledged to be ever unbroken ; Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, He dashes off tears that are welling, And gathers his gun closer up to its place, As if to keep down the heart-swelling.
Pagina 116 - WHAT flower is this that greets the morn, Its hues from Heaven so freshly born? With burning star and flaming band It kindles all the sunset land : Oh tell us what its name may be, — Is this the Flower of Liberty?
Pagina 201 - Lay him low, lay him low In the clover or the snow ! What cares he ? he cannot know : Lay him low...
Pagina 281 - THE flags of war like storm-birds fly, The charging trumpets blow; Yet rolls no thunder in the sky, No earthquake strives below. And, calm and patient, Nature keeps Her ancient promise well, Though o'er her bloom and greenness sweeps The battle's breath of hell. And still she walks in golden hours Through harvest-happy farms, And still she wears her fruits and flowers Like jewels on her arms. What mean the gladness of the plain, This joy of eve and morn, The mirth that shakes the beard of grain And...
Pagina 96 - And I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse ; and he that sat upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge and make war.
Pagina 94 - There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread, As he tramps from the rock to the fountain, And thinks of the two in the low trundle-bed Far away in the cot on the mountain.
Pagina 335 - And the grandsire speaks in a whisper: " The end no man can see ; But we give him to his country, And we give our prayers to Thee." The violets star the meadows, The rose-buds fringe the door, And over the grassy orchard The pink-white blossoms pour. But the grandsire's chair is empty, The cottage is dark and still ; There's a nameless grave in the battle-field.