Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 6. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for George H. Boker or search for George H. Boker in all documents.

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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 6. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 103 (search)
28. dirge for a soldier. by George H. Boker. Close his eyes; his work is done! What to him is friend or foeman, Rise of moon, or set of sun, Hand of man, or kiss of woman? Lay him low, lay him low, In the clover or the snow! What cares he? he cannot know: Lay him low! As man may, he fought his fight, Proved his truth by his endeavor; Let him sleep in solemn night, Sleep forever and forever. Lay him low, lay him low, In the clover or the snow! What cares he? he cannot know: Lay him low! Fold him in his country's stars, Roll the drum and fire the volley! What to him are all our. wars, What but death bemocking folly? Lay him low, lay him low, In the clover or the snow! What cares he? he cannot know: Lay him low! Leave him to God's watching eye, Trust him to the hand that made him. Mortal love weeps idly by: God alone has power to aid him. Lay him low, lay him low, In the clover or the snow! What cares he? he cannot know: Lay him low!
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 6. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 171 (search)
51. Oremus. by George H. Boker. We will not raise, O God! the formal prayer Of broken heart and shattered nerve; Thou know'st our griefs, our wants, and whatsoever Is best for those who serve. Before thy feet, in silence and in awe, We open lay our cause and need; As brave men may, the patriot sword we draw, But thine must be the deed. We have no pageantry, to please thy eye, Save marshaled men, who marching come Beneath thy gaze in armed panoply; No music save the drum. We have no altar builded in thy sight, From which the fragrant offerings rise, Save this wild field of hot and bloody fight; These dead our sacrifice. To this great cause the force of prayer is given, The wordless prayer of righteous will, Before whose strength the ivory gates of heaven Fall open, and are still. For we believe, within our inmost souls, That what men do with spirit sad, To thee in one vast cloud of worship rolls-- Rolls up, and makes thee glad. O God! if reason may presume so far, We say