Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for Jeff or search for Jeff in all documents.

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38. our money. Our treasury is furnished with rags, So thick even Jeff cannot thin 'em. Jeff's torn up his old money bags, Having nothing like cash to put in 'em. Our farmers are smashed up by dozens, But this is all nothing they say; For bankrupts, since Adam, are cousins, But 'tis all in a family way. Our debts not a shillingJeff's torn up his old money bags, Having nothing like cash to put in 'em. Our farmers are smashed up by dozens, But this is all nothing they say; For bankrupts, since Adam, are cousins, But 'tis all in a family way. Our debts not a shilling take from us, As statesmen the matter explain; Bob owes it to Tom, and then Thomas Just owes it to Bob back again. Since all thus have taken to owing, There's nobody left that can pay; And that is the way we keep going, All just in a family way. Our congressmen vote away millions To put in the huge Southern budget, And if it were billions or trillions, The generous rogues would not grudge it. 'Tis naught but a family hop, And Jeff began dancing they say-- Hands round! Why the deuce should we stop? 'Tis all in a family way. Our rich cotton-planters all tumble-- The poor ones have nothing to chew, And if they themselves do not grumble, Their stomachs undou
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore), 50. the last Star: a Reminiscence of mine run. (search)
et with gore, The separate armies lay Upon their arms that solemn night, Early to start the strife next day. Beneath a charred and shattered oak A color-sergeant lay, And many a wide and gaping wound Told of his work that day. But not alone upon the plain Was this youthful warrior left, To be butchered by some thieving band Of humanity bereft. “Squad, halt! and see who this man is.” “Friends!” the soldier yelled, ”'tis I! Color of the Fifty-ninth, And not afraid to die!“ “Here's brandy, Jeff, 'twill do you good, Then p'haps you'll know your friends; But on keeping calm and quiet now, Your recovery depends.” . . . . “Here, sergeant,” said the bleeding man, ”This star is all I've got That yet remains of that old flag, I've borne through battles hot. If I should die of this slight wound-- The trust is not misplaced-- Carry it back to those who gave, And say 'twas ne'er disgraced. ”Just there we met the Catamounts The Fourth regiment of Alabama infantry style th