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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 6. (ed. Frank Moore) 8 0 Browse Search
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ar-- Blindfold and brazen, on God doth call-- Then grasps, in horror, the glaring ball, Or treads on the candent bar! Yet a little!--and men shall mark This our Moloch, who sate so stark, (These hundred winters through godless dark Grinning o'er death and shame)-- Marking for murder each unbowed head, Throned on his Ghizeh of bones, and fed Still with hearts of the holy dead-- Naught but a Spectre foul and dread, Naught but a hideous Name! At last!--(ungloom, stern coffined frown! Rest thee, Gray-Steel!--aye, dead Renown! In flame and thunder by field and town The Giant-Horror is going down, Down to the Home whence it came!) Deaf to the Doom that waits the Beast, Still would ye share the Harlot's Feast, And drink of her blood-grimed Cup! Pause!--the Accursed, on yon frenzied shore, Buyeth your merchandise never more! Mark, 'mid the Fiery Dew that drips, Redder, faster, through black Eclipse, How Sodom, to-night, shall sup! (Thus the Kings, in Apocalypse, The traders of souls, and cre
Executions by the rebels.--The Rebel Banner, of the twenty-seventh December, 1862, has the following in a letter from Murfreesboro: Yesterday the sentences of court-martial were executed upon several persons in the vicinity of this place. Gray, resident of this county, was hung as a spy in presence of an immense throng of soldiers and citizens. Proof of guilt was very comprehensive and conclusive. He had been for several months acting in concert with the enemy, and giving them aid andite unconcerned, and his forbidding features did not display any particular interest in the dread tragedy about to be enacted. Just after the noose had been adjusted about the prisoner's neck, and as Captain Peters was about reading the sentence, Gray leaped from the platform, thus launching himself into eternity. He struggled severely for several minutes, and then expired. At the same hour, amidst a drenching rain-storm, Asa Lewis, member of Captain Page's company, Sixth Kentucky regiment,
49. Larry's return from the war. by will S. Hays. The black clouds were angrily chasing each other; The cold winter winds howling carelessly by The cottage where sat Kitty Gray and her mother-- Poor Kitty looked sad, with a tear in her eye. She thought of her lover, with whom she had parted-- Who had gone to the wars — it was Larry O'More. Oh! hark! she heard footsteps, and suddenly started-- Then smiled, as she leaped, like a fawn, to the door. And, lo! there stood Larry, as fresh and as cosy As when he left Kitty's bewitching young charms; Whose eyes were so bright, and whose cheeks were so rosy-- “Arrah! Kitty,” said Larry, “love, come to me arms.” “O Larry! you're safe!” “Yes, thrue for ye, darlina; I've been in the battles, whin the balance wor kilt, An‘ the ribils, like haythens, come fightina an' snarlina-- Arrah! Kitty, no knowina the blood that was spilt.” “Come, Larry, sit down;” “Faith, I will, an' close near you-- For lonesome I've been,