Lyrics of loyalty, arranged and edited by F. Moore, Volumen651864 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 66
Página 2
... fight . The arms that wield the axe must pour An iron tempest on the foe ; His serried ranks shall reel before The arm that lays the panther low . And ye who breast the mountain storm By grassy steep or highland lake , Come , for the ...
... fight . The arms that wield the axe must pour An iron tempest on the foe ; His serried ranks shall reel before The arm that lays the panther low . And ye who breast the mountain storm By grassy steep or highland lake , Come , for the ...
Página 17
... fight ; Good - by , my love , my life ! Louisville , Ky . THE WOODS OF TENNESSEE . ANONYMOUS . HE whip - poor - will is calling THE From its perch on the splintered limb , And the plaintive notes are echoing Through the aisles of the ...
... fight ; Good - by , my love , my life ! Louisville , Ky . THE WOODS OF TENNESSEE . ANONYMOUS . HE whip - poor - will is calling THE From its perch on the splintered limb , And the plaintive notes are echoing Through the aisles of the ...
Página 19
... fight , to conquer , or to die . Shall our fair land , by heaven so blest , Become a tyrant monarch's throne ? Shall thy God's altars desecrate - Around whose shrines our hearts have grown Shall they , beneath a grinding heel , ་ Tread ...
... fight , to conquer , or to die . Shall our fair land , by heaven so blest , Become a tyrant monarch's throne ? Shall thy God's altars desecrate - Around whose shrines our hearts have grown Shall they , beneath a grinding heel , ་ Tread ...
Página 20
... fight for liberty . Though life may falter when we part With brother , father , husband , friend , That God above who reads each heart Shall find us with you to the end ; Be brave , and in the battle's din , - Amid the smoke of muskets ...
... fight for liberty . Though life may falter when we part With brother , father , husband , friend , That God above who reads each heart Shall find us with you to the end ; Be brave , and in the battle's din , - Amid the smoke of muskets ...
Página 28
... fight must watch , He who would win must pray . " Pray for the night hath wings ; Watch ! for the foe is near ; March ! till the morning brings Fame - wreath or soldier's bier . So shall the poet write , When all hath ended well ...
... fight must watch , He who would win must pray . " Pray for the night hath wings ; Watch ! for the foe is near ; March ! till the morning brings Fame - wreath or soldier's bier . So shall the poet write , When all hath ended well ...
Contenido
46 | |
61 | |
74 | |
80 | |
90 | |
96 | |
103 | |
109 | |
115 | |
121 | |
129 | |
135 | |
141 | |
148 | |
238 | |
248 | |
260 | |
270 | |
280 | |
286 | |
292 | |
301 | |
302 | |
309 | |
318 | |
328 | |
335 | |
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Términos y frases comunes
banner battle bless blood blow BOY BRITTAN brave breast breath Broadside brother brow Canaän CARTE DE VISITE cheer clouds columns cried CUMBERLAND dark dead dear death dream drum echoing eyes fall fathers fell fight fire flag flaming band Flower of Liberty FORCEYTHE WILLSON Freedom gallant gently gleam glory grave hand hear heart Heaven heroes Hurrah HYMN kiss land Lay him low light morning mother music of Union nation neath never night North Northmen o'er OLD FANEUIL HALL OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES patriot peace Pompey prayer rebel roar ROBERT LOWELL rose shame shore shout sighs sing slave sleep smile snow soldier song soul Star-Spangled Banner stars strike sweet sword tears Tennessee thee THEODORE TILTON THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH thou traitors true trumpet Varuna victory voice wave wife WILLIAM ROSS WALLACE winds wounded yonder
Pasajes populares
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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?
Página 201 - Lay him low, lay him low In the clover or the snow ! What cares he ? he cannot know : Lay him low...
Página 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...
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.