The Poetical Works of T. Buchanan Read

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J. B. Lippincott & Company, 1883 - 346 pages

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Page 258 - Out of the North the wild news came, Far flashing on its wings of flame, Swift as the boreal light which flies At midnight through the startled skies. And there was tumult in the air, The fife's shrill note, the drum's loud beat, And through the wide land everywhere The answering tread of hurrying feet...
Page 228 - mid a storm of huzzas, And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because The sight of the master compelled it to pause. With foam and with dust the black charger was gray; By the flash of his eye, and the red nostril's play, He seemed to the whole great army to say, "I have brought you Sheridan all the way From Winchester down to save the day!
Page 59 - ... blew His alien horn, and then was heard no more. Where erst the jay, within the elm's tall crest, Made garrulous trouble round...
Page 59 - Fell mid the ranks of the invading foe. Long, but not loud, the droning wheel went on, Like the low murmur of a hive at noon; Long, but not loud, the memory of the gone Breathed through her lips a sad and tremulous tune.
Page 228 - Under his spurning feet, the road Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed, And the landscape sped away behind, Like an ocean flying before the wind ; And the steed like a bark fed with furnace ire, Swept on with his wild eye full of fire.
Page 78 - My soul to-day Is far away, Sailing the Vesuvian Bay; My winged boat, A bird afloat, Swims round the purple peaks remote: — Round purple peaks It sails, and seeks Blue inlets and their crystal creeks, Where high rocks throw, Through deeps below, A duplicated golden glow. Far, vague, and dim The mountains swim; While, on Vesuvius' misty brim, With outstretched hands, The gray smoke stands O'erlooking the volcanic lands.
Page 259 - Manor stood, There Sunday found the rural folk, And some esteemed of gentle blood. In vain their feet with loitering tread Passed mid the graves where rank is naught, All could not read the lesson taught In that republic of the dead.
Page 260 - He spoke of wrongs too long endured, Of sacred rights to be secured; Then from his patriot tongue of flame The startling words for freedom came. The stirring sentences he spake Compelled the heart to glow or quake, And, rising on his theme's broad wing, And grasping in his nervous hand The imaginary battle-brand, In face of death he dared to fling Defiance to a tyrant king.
Page 59 - Of his black mantle trailing' in the dust. While yet her cheek was bright with summer bloom, Her country summoned, and she gave her all ; And twice War bowed to her his sable plume — ' Re-gave the sword to rest upon her wall.
Page 228 - Sheridan all the way From Winchester down, to save the day." Hurrah ! hurrah for Sheridan ! Hurrah ! hurrah for horse and man ! And when their statues are placed on high. Under the dome of the Union sky, The American...

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