Your search returned 8 results in 4 document sections:

he number has greatly increased. There were battle odes, hymns, calls to arms, paeans and dirges and prayers for peace-many of them good, few of them great; and the vast majority, alas! wretchedly poor. Any attempted notice of their authors in limits like this would be sheer failure; and where many did so well, it were invidious to discriminate. The names of John R. Thompson, James Randall, Henry Timrod, Paul Hayne, Barron Hope, Margaret Preston, James Overall, Harry Lyndon Flash and Frank Ticknor had already become household words in the South, where they will live forever. Wherever his people read anything, the classic finish of his Latane, the sweet caress of his Stuart and the bugle-blast of his Coercion and Word with the West, had assured John R. Thompson's fame. The liltful refrain of Maryland, my Maryland echoed from the Potomac to the Gulf; and the clarion-call James R. Randall so nobly used-There's life in the old land yet! warmed every southern heart, by the dead a
84. the old Rifleman. by Frank Ticknor, M. D. Now bring me out my buckskin suit I My pouch and powder, too! We'll see if seventy-six can shoot As sixteen used to do. Old Bess! we've kept our barrels bright I Our trigger quick and true! As far, if not as fine a sight, As, long ago, we drew! And pick me out a trusty flint I A real white and blue; Perhaps 'twill win the other tint, Before the hunt is through! Give boys your brass percussion caps I! Old “shut-pan” suits as well I There's something in the sparks; perhaps There's something in the smell! We've seen the red-coat Briton bleed! The red-skin Indian, too! We never thought to draw a bead On Yankee-doodle-doo! But, Bessie! bless your dear old heart! Those days are mostly done; And now we must revive the art Of shooting on the run! If Doodle must be meddling, why, There's only this to do: Select the black spot in his eye, And let the daylight through I And if he doesn't like the way That Bess presents the view, He'll m
D. 49 Thomasson, H. F., D. 72 Thompson, George W., Judge, D. 82; proclamation, at Wheeling, Va., May 28, Doc. 295 Thompson, —, judge, speech at Union meeting, N. Y., Doc. 113 Thompson, Joseph P., D. D., notices of, P. 13; D. 38 Thompson, John R., P. 65 Thompson, W. P., D. 82 Thompson, —, Secretary, commissioner from Mississippi, D. 5; resigned, D. 12 Thouvenel, M., Doc. 191 Through Baltimore, the Voice of Pennsylvania Volunteers, P. 32 Ticknor, Frank, M. D., P. 64 Tilghman, Lloyd, Col., interview with Col. Prentiss, D. 60; Doc. 194 Tilton, Theodore, P. 29 To arms! by M. P. Lowe, P. 50 To arms! by H. A. Moore, P. 88 Tobacco, a Confederate gun charged with, P. 79 To Ellsworth, by John W. Forney, P. 89 To Massachusetts soldiers, P. 2 Tompkins, Chas. H., Lieut., charge at Fairfax Court House, Va., D. 89; official report of the surprise at Fairfax Court House, Va., Doc. 821 Tompkins, —, <
The Daily Dispatch: may 23, 1861., [Electronic resource], Extra session of the Provisional Congress of the Confederate States. (search)
The spirit of '76--the Old rifleman. We are indebted to gentleman of Columbus, Ga., for the following lines, by Frank Ticknor, M. D., of that city, which has the ring of the true metal. Every old Virginia rifleman, and every descendant of a Virginia rifleman, of '76, should take down his old gun, and talk to her as our Georgia friend does to "Old Bess:" The Old rifleman.by Ben. Now bring me out my buck-skin suit! My pouch and powder, too! We'll see if seventy-six can shoot As sixteen used to do. Old Bess! we've kept our barrels bright! Our trigger quiet and true! As far, if not as fine a sight, As long ago, we drew! And pick me out a trusty flint! A real white and blue. Perhaps I will win the other tint. Before the hunt is through! Give boys your braze percussion caps! Old "shut pan" suits as well! There's something in the sparks; perhaps There's something in the smell! We've seen the red-coat Briton bleed! The red-skin indian, too! We never though