The Story of Our National Ballads

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Thomas Y. Crowell Company, 1919 - 234 pages
 

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Page 48 - O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave! And where is that band who so vauntingly swore That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion A home and a country should leave us no more? Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps
Page 163 - I shall have the most solemn one to 'preserve, protect and defend it.' I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
Page 146 - His truth is marching on. I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps; His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel: "As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My Grace shall deal"; Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel, Since God is marching on.
Page 70 - 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.
Page 48 - O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows...
Page 146 - 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.
Page 146 - 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...
Page 204 - When Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah, hurrah! We'll give him a hearty welcome then, Hurrah, hurrah! The men will cheer, the boys will shout, The ladies, they will all turn out, And we'll all feel gay, when Johnny comes marching home.
Page 70 - Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song ; Let mortal tongues awake ; Let all that breathe partake ; Let rocks their silence break, The sound prolong. Our fathers...
Page 96 - I wish I was in de land ob cotton, Old times dar am not forgotten, Look away! Look away! Look away! Dixie Land. In Dixie Land whar I was born in Early on one frosty mornin', Look away!

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