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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 3. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

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Washington (United States) (search for this): chapter 49
17. the steamer Connecticut Carrying a regiment through the Highlands. by A. L. Down through our bright mountain passes The Northern wind faintly brings A sound that is sweet and thrilling, And full of unuttered things: It's the brazen clangor of trumpets, And the measured notes of the drum, And cymbals, and fife, and cornet, As onward the volunteers come. There's a “Hail to Columbia” breaking The murmur of woods and rills; And Washington's march is sounding With its war-tramp among the hills. So nearer, and ever nearer,-- And we gather around the door, And stand there in deep heart-silence, As many a time before. Our eyes take but grave, brief notice, Of the brightness of earth and sky,-- There's a more soul-rousing glory In that dark spot passing by. There are young lives freely offered, And prospects and hopes laid down; There are fair heads bared to the death-blow, Or marked for the victor's crown. See where, on their mighty transport, The volunteers crowd the decks, Their black
Columbia (South Carolina, United States) (search for this): chapter 49
17. the steamer Connecticut Carrying a regiment through the Highlands. by A. L. Down through our bright mountain passes The Northern wind faintly brings A sound that is sweet and thrilling, And full of unuttered things: It's the brazen clangor of trumpets, And the measured notes of the drum, And cymbals, and fife, and cornet, As onward the volunteers come. There's a “Hail to Columbia” breaking The murmur of woods and rills; And Washington's march is sounding With its war-tramp among the hills. So nearer, and ever nearer,-- And we gather around the door, And stand there in deep heart-silence, As many a time before. Our eyes take but grave, brief notice, Of the brightness of earth and sky,-- There's a more soul-rousing glory In that dark spot passing by. There are young lives freely offered, And prospects and hopes laid down; There are fair heads bared to the death-blow, Or marked for the victor's crown. See where, on their mighty transport, The volunteers crowd the decks, Their black
October, 1861 AD (search for this): chapter 49
ese volunteer soldiers, As down our broad river they glide, What sort of a welcome awaits them, Deep hid in the woods on each side? They know that the hills are in glory, They can see how the blue waters roll,-- Do they feel the low prayers ascending From the depth of each woman's soul? They can see that the sky is its clearest, That the sun has its brightest glow; That the Stars and Stripes flutter before them, In triumph, wherever they go: Do they know how the hearts are throbbing, Do they know how the eyes are wet With a deep, high, grief and gladness, At this part of the Nation's debt? Ah me! I am only a woman,-- Not even my voice is strong To give them a rousing welcome-- A cheer as they pass along. But hark! how the men are cheering, All down along the shore; And the crews of the passing vessels Give out another roar; And once more the echoes waken, As the blue-coats answer back,-- And the steamer is round the headland, And the waters close over her track. October, 1861.