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answer arms banner battle blood blow blue brave breast breath brother cheer close cold columns comes dark dead dear death deep died dream drum eyes face fair fall Father fear fell field fight fire flag flame flowers Forward fought give glory grave gray guns hand head hear heard heart Heaven hill hold hope hour hundred land leaves light lips live looked Maryland morning never night o'er once passed peace ranks rebel rest rise river roar roll rose round seemed ship shore side sleep smile soldier song soul sound stand stars stood strong sweet sword tears tell thee thou thought thousand thunder Till to-day true turn voice wait wave wind wounded
Page 287 - 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.
Page 124 - 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...
Page 292 - For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead. 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...
Page 290 - 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...
Page 126 - 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!
Page 242 - 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.
Page 125 - 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.
Page 327 - BY the flow of the inland river. Whence the fleets of iron have fled, Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver, Asleep are the ranks of the dead ; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day ; Under the one, the Blue ; Under the other, the Gray.