hide Sorting

You can sort these results in two ways:

By entity
Chronological order for dates, alphabetical order for places and people.
By position (current method)
As the entities appear in the document.

You are currently sorting in ascending order. Sort in descending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

The entities that appear most frequently in this document are shown below.

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
Maryland (Maryland, United States) 120 0 Browse Search
Washington (United States) 65 1 Browse Search
Nov 58 0 Browse Search
Kentucky (Kentucky, United States) 54 0 Browse Search
Yankee Doodle 54 0 Browse Search
Oct 54 0 Browse Search
Dec 52 0 Browse Search
United States (United States) 50 0 Browse Search
Abe Lincoln 48 0 Browse Search
George B. McClellan 45 1 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 3. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

Found 8 total hits in 3 results.

Allen M. Scott (search for this): chapter 10
11. song on Gen. Scott. by N. B. J****. tune--Poor Old Horse, Let Him Die. Virginia had a son, Who gathered up some fame; He many battles won, And thereby won a nature doth decay, Virginia she does scold, And all can hear her say, Poor old Scott, let him die. He is old, and very mean, sir; He is dull, and very slow; And it r will he ever pray; Then kick him out of sight, And let Virginia say, Poor old Scott, let him die. The sound of his war-whoop No one again will hear; In dread laps wallow in the mud, Than be old Lincoln's dog, Or be his warrior stud. Poor old Scott, let him die. I had rather be a dog, And bay the stars and moon; I had sooner be a frog, With a dungeon for my doom, Than to be poor old Scott, To fill a traitor's grave, And there in silence rot, Without a soul to save. Poor old Scott, let him, Than to be poor old Scott, To fill a traitor's grave, And there in silence rot, Without a soul to save. Poor old Scott, let him die. --Richmond Dispatch, Aug. 27.
Abe Lincoln (search for this): chapter 10
une--Poor Old Horse, Let Him Die. Virginia had a son, Who gathered up some fame; He many battles won, And thereby won a name; But now he's growing old, And nature doth decay, Virginia she does scold, And all can hear her say, Poor old Scott, let him die. He is old, and very mean, sir; He is dull, and very slow; And it can now be seen, sir, He still does meaner grow; He is not fit to fight, Nor will he ever pray; Then kick him out of sight, And let Virginia say, Poor old Scott, let him die. The sound of his war-whoop No one again will hear; In dread laps he his hasty soup, With hell-fire in his rear; I had rather be a hog, And wallow in the mud, Than be old Lincoln's dog, Or be his warrior stud. Poor old Scott, let him die. I had rather be a dog, And bay the stars and moon; I had sooner be a frog, With a dungeon for my doom, Than to be poor old Scott, To fill a traitor's grave, And there in silence rot, Without a soul to save. Poor old Scott, let him die. --Richmond Dispatch, Aug. 27.
August 27th (search for this): chapter 10
une--Poor Old Horse, Let Him Die. Virginia had a son, Who gathered up some fame; He many battles won, And thereby won a name; But now he's growing old, And nature doth decay, Virginia she does scold, And all can hear her say, Poor old Scott, let him die. He is old, and very mean, sir; He is dull, and very slow; And it can now be seen, sir, He still does meaner grow; He is not fit to fight, Nor will he ever pray; Then kick him out of sight, And let Virginia say, Poor old Scott, let him die. The sound of his war-whoop No one again will hear; In dread laps he his hasty soup, With hell-fire in his rear; I had rather be a hog, And wallow in the mud, Than be old Lincoln's dog, Or be his warrior stud. Poor old Scott, let him die. I had rather be a dog, And bay the stars and moon; I had sooner be a frog, With a dungeon for my doom, Than to be poor old Scott, To fill a traitor's grave, And there in silence rot, Without a soul to save. Poor old Scott, let him die. --Richmond Dispatch, Aug. 27.