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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

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Runnymede (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 148
o!--presto, change! its claims you urge, Send greetings to it o'er the surge, And comfort and protect it. But yesterday you scarce could Shake, In slave-abhorring rigor, Our Northern palms, for conscience‘ sake; To-day you clasp the hands that ache With “wallopping the nigger!” See English caricatures of America — Slaveholder and cowhide, with the motto: “Haven't I a right to wallop my nigger!” O Englishmen!--in hope and creed, In blood and tongue our brothers I We, too, are heirs of Runnymede; And Shakspeare's fame and Cromwell's deed, Are not alone our mother's. “Thicker than water,” in one rill, Through centuries of story, Our Saxon blood has flowed, and still We share with you its good and ill, The shadow and the glory. Joint heirs and kinfolk, leagues of wave Nor length of years can part us: Your right is ours to shrine and grave, The common freehold of the brave, The gifts of saints and martyrs. Our very sins and follies teach Our kindred frail and human: We carp
England (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 148
one rill, Through centuries of story, Our Saxon blood has flowed, and still We share with you its good and ill, The shadow and the glory. Joint heirs and kinfolk, leagues of wave Nor length of years can part us: Your right is ours to shrine and grave, The common freehold of the brave, The gifts of saints and martyrs. Our very sins and follies teach Our kindred frail and human: We carp at faults with bitter speech, The while for one unshared by each We have a score in common. We bowed the heart, if not the knee, To England's Queen-God bless her! We praised you when your slaves went free: We seek to unchain ours. Will ye Join hands with the oppressor? And is it Christian England cheers The bruiser, not the bruised? And must she run, despite the tears And prayers of eighteen hundred years, A muck in Slavery's crusade? O black disgrace! 0 shame and loss, Too deep for tongue to phrase on! Tear from your flag its holy cross, And in your van of battle toss The pirate's skull-bone blazon!
United States (United States) (search for this): chapter 148
d us; We showed our free-State records; still You mocked, confounding good and ill, Slave-haters and slaveholders. We struck at slavery; to the verge Of power and means we checked it: Lo!--presto, change! its claims you urge, Send greetings to it o'er the surge, And comfort and protect it. But yesterday you scarce could Shake, In slave-abhorring rigor, Our Northern palms, for conscience‘ sake; To-day you clasp the hands that ache With “wallopping the nigger!” See English caricatures of America — Slaveholder and cowhide, with the motto: “Haven't I a right to wallop my nigger!” O Englishmen!--in hope and creed, In blood and tongue our brothers I We, too, are heirs of Runnymede; And Shakspeare's fame and Cromwell's deed, Are not alone our mother's. “Thicker than water,” in one rill, Through centuries of story, Our Saxon blood has flowed, and still We share with you its good and ill, The shadow and the glory. Joint heirs and kinfolk, leagues of wave Nor length of years can
Christian England (search for this): chapter 148
one rill, Through centuries of story, Our Saxon blood has flowed, and still We share with you its good and ill, The shadow and the glory. Joint heirs and kinfolk, leagues of wave Nor length of years can part us: Your right is ours to shrine and grave, The common freehold of the brave, The gifts of saints and martyrs. Our very sins and follies teach Our kindred frail and human: We carp at faults with bitter speech, The while for one unshared by each We have a score in common. We bowed the heart, if not the knee, To England's Queen-God bless her! We praised you when your slaves went free: We seek to unchain ours. Will ye Join hands with the oppressor? And is it Christian England cheers The bruiser, not the bruised? And must she run, despite the tears And prayers of eighteen hundred years, A muck in Slavery's crusade? O black disgrace! 0 shame and loss, Too deep for tongue to phrase on! Tear from your flag its holy cross, And in your van of battle toss The pirate's skull-bone blazon!
Saxon (search for this): chapter 148
slave-abhorring rigor, Our Northern palms, for conscience‘ sake; To-day you clasp the hands that ache With “wallopping the nigger!” See English caricatures of America — Slaveholder and cowhide, with the motto: “Haven't I a right to wallop my nigger!” O Englishmen!--in hope and creed, In blood and tongue our brothers I We, too, are heirs of Runnymede; And Shakspeare's fame and Cromwell's deed, Are not alone our mother's. “Thicker than water,” in one rill, Through centuries of story, Our Saxon blood has flowed, and still We share with you its good and ill, The shadow and the glory. Joint heirs and kinfolk, leagues of wave Nor length of years can part us: Your right is ours to shrine and grave, The common freehold of the brave, The gifts of saints and martyrs. Our very sins and follies teach Our kindred frail and human: We carp at faults with bitter speech, The while for one unshared by each We have a score in common. We bowed the heart, if not the knee, To England's Queen
Ruth N. Cromwell (search for this): chapter 148
urge, Send greetings to it o'er the surge, And comfort and protect it. But yesterday you scarce could Shake, In slave-abhorring rigor, Our Northern palms, for conscience‘ sake; To-day you clasp the hands that ache With “wallopping the nigger!” See English caricatures of America — Slaveholder and cowhide, with the motto: “Haven't I a right to wallop my nigger!” O Englishmen!--in hope and creed, In blood and tongue our brothers I We, too, are heirs of Runnymede; And Shakspeare's fame and Cromwell's deed, Are not alone our mother's. “Thicker than water,” in one rill, Through centuries of story, Our Saxon blood has flowed, and still We share with you its good and ill, The shadow and the glory. Joint heirs and kinfolk, leagues of wave Nor length of years can part us: Your right is ours to shrine and grave, The common freehold of the brave, The gifts of saints and martyrs. Our very sins and follies teach Our kindred frail and human: We carp at faults with bitter speech, The wh
Shakspeare (search for this): chapter 148
nge! its claims you urge, Send greetings to it o'er the surge, And comfort and protect it. But yesterday you scarce could Shake, In slave-abhorring rigor, Our Northern palms, for conscience‘ sake; To-day you clasp the hands that ache With “wallopping the nigger!” See English caricatures of America — Slaveholder and cowhide, with the motto: “Haven't I a right to wallop my nigger!” O Englishmen!--in hope and creed, In blood and tongue our brothers I We, too, are heirs of Runnymede; And Shakspeare's fame and Cromwell's deed, Are not alone our mother's. “Thicker than water,” in one rill, Through centuries of story, Our Saxon blood has flowed, and still We share with you its good and ill, The shadow and the glory. Joint heirs and kinfolk, leagues of wave Nor length of years can part us: Your right is ours to shrine and grave, The common freehold of the brave, The gifts of saints and martyrs. Our very sins and follies teach Our kindred frail and human: We carp at faults with
John G. Whittier (search for this): chapter 148
49. to Englishmen. by John G. Whittier. You flung your taunt across the wave; We bore it as became us, Well knowing that the fettered slave Left friendly lips no option save To pity or to blame us. You scoffed our plea. “Mere lack of will, Not lack of power,” you told us; We showed our free-State records; still You mocked, confounding good and ill, Slave-haters and slaveholders. We struck at slavery; to the verge Of power and means we checked it: Lo!--presto, change! its claims you urge, Send greetings to it o'er the surge, And comfort and protect it. But yesterday you scarce could Shake, In slave-abhorring rigor, Our Northern palms, for conscience‘ sake; To-day you clasp the hands that ache With “wallopping the nigger!” See English caricatures of America — Slaveholder and cowhide, with the motto: “Haven't I a right to wallop my nigger!” O Englishmen!--in hope and creed, In blood and tongue our brothers I We, too, are heirs of Runnymede; And Shakspeare's fame and Crom