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Benjamin Cutter, William R. Cutter, History of the town of Arlington, Massachusetts, ormerly the second precinct in Cambridge, or District of Menotomy, afterward the town of West Cambridge. 1635-1879 with a genealogical register of the inhabitants of the precinct. 127 1 Browse Search
HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF MEDFORD, Middlesex County, Massachusetts, FROM ITS FIRST SETTLEMENT, IN 1630, TO THE PRESENT TIME, 1855. (ed. Charles Brooks) 54 0 Browse Search
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier) 30 0 Browse Search
Medford Historical Society Papers, Volume 1. 13 1 Browse Search
James Redpath, The Public Life of Captain John Brown 12 0 Browse Search
Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 1, Colonial and Revolutionary Literature: Early National Literature: Part I (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.) 10 0 Browse Search
History of the First Universalist Church in Somerville, Mass. Illustrated; a souvenir of the fiftieth anniversary celebrated February 15-21, 1904 6 0 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 3. (ed. Frank Moore) 6 0 Browse Search
Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 1 4 0 Browse Search
Knight's Mechanical Encyclopedia (ed. Knight) 4 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 3. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for Ruth or search for Ruth in all documents.

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tears, and filled his sack, And, at dawn, upon his home my only darling turned his back. As he kissed my cheek at parting, he whispered in my ear, “Do not let my Ruth forget me, though I stay away a year.” Our garden's yield was plenteous, and the meadow filled the mow, And Ruth came over twice a day to milk our only cow. The ryRuth came over twice a day to milk our only cow. The rye that Frank had sown sprang up and turned from green to gold, But a stranger's flail, within the barn, its master's absence told. Whilst the hireling reaped the grain, I shudd'ring thought, but held my breath, How busy in Virginia was the sickle keen of Death! Thus the troubled summer sped, our note of time the weekly cheer Of his letters; and we kissed them when they reckoned half a year. Yesterday I heard our boys had crossed the broad Potomac's flow; Ruth was reading of the streams where Babel's weeping willows grow, When a dove perched on the line through which flash before our gate Words of sorrow or of gladness for the people and the State., On tha