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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

Found 4 total hits in 2 results.

New England (United States) (search for this): chapter 170
87. strike! by Edward S. Ellis. From New-England's granite mountains, From the North's resounding woods, From the far West's flashing fountains, Pour the living human floods. Onward sweeps the aroused nation, From the lakes and streams and sea; Onward for their home's salvation, And the fight for liberty. Deeds, not words, make men immortal In this grand, heroic age; He who wills can ope the portal To a name on history's page. Know ye not that revolutions Are the throes of struggling Right? In these national ablutions It must triumph over Might. What tough but a child in learning, When the war-note onward rolls, While our country's fate is turning, 'Tis not heads we need — but souls. Some must make their names historic, Who, the future soon will tell; Some must perform deeds heroic And the roll of glory swell. Strike then for the truth eternal; Strike then, for the cause is just; Strike then at the wrong infernal, Till it bites again the dust
Edward S. Ellis (search for this): chapter 170
87. strike! by Edward S. Ellis. From New-England's granite mountains, From the North's resounding woods, From the far West's flashing fountains, Pour the living human floods. Onward sweeps the aroused nation, From the lakes and streams and sea; Onward for their home's salvation, And the fight for liberty. Deeds, not words, make men immortal In this grand, heroic age; He who wills can ope the portal To a name on history's page. Know ye not that revolutions Are the throes of struggling Right? In these national ablutions It must triumph over Might. What tough but a child in learning, When the war-note onward rolls, While our country's fate is turning, 'Tis not heads we need — but souls. Some must make their names historic, Who, the future soon will tell; Some must perform deeds heroic And the roll of glory swell. Strike then for the truth eternal; Strike then, for the cause is just; Strike then at the wrong infernal, Till it bites again the dust