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Frederick H. Dyer, Compendium of the War of the Rebellion: Regimental Histories 162 162 Browse Search
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 119 119 Browse Search
Benson J. Lossing, Pictorial Field Book of the Civil War. Volume 1. 25 25 Browse Search
William Tecumseh Sherman, Memoirs of General William T. Sherman . 23 23 Browse Search
Maj. Jed. Hotchkiss, Confederate Military History, a library of Confederate States Military History: Volume 3, Virginia (ed. Clement Anselm Evans) 21 21 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Massachusetts in the Army and Navy during the war of 1861-1865, vol. 1, Condensed history of regiments. 20 20 Browse Search
The Atlanta (Georgia) Campaign: May 1 - September 8, 1864., Part I: General Report. (ed. Maj. George B. Davis, Mr. Leslie J. Perry, Mr. Joseph W. Kirkley) 20 20 Browse Search
Robert Underwood Johnson, Clarence Clough Buell, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War: Volume 2. 18 18 Browse Search
Comte de Paris, History of the Civil War in America. Vol. 3. (ed. Henry Coppee , LL.D.) 18 18 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Irene E. Jerome., In a fair country 17 17 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier). You can also browse the collection for May or search for May in all documents.

Your search returned 8 results in 5 document sections:

The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Personal Poems (search)
swells, Once more the flag is half-way hung, And yet again the mournful bells In all thy steeple-towers are rung. And I, obedient to thy will, Have come a simple wreath to lay, Superfluous, on a grave that still Is sweet with all the flowers of May. I take, with awe, the task assigned; It may be that my friend might miss, In his new sphere of heart and mind, Some token from my hand in this. By many a tender memory moved, Along the past my thought I send; The record of the cause he loved Is is only ours! Within the Gate. L. M. C. I have more fully expressed my admiration and regard for Lydia Maria Child in the biographical introduction which I wrote for the volume of Letters, published after her death. we sat together, last May-day, and talked Of the dear friends who walked Beside us, sharers of the hopes and fears Of five and forty years, Since first we met in Freedom's hope forlorn, And heard her battle-horn Sound through the valleys of the sleeping North, Calling he
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), The tent on the Beach (search)
tch and ward the mountains keep. Who that Titan cromlech fills? Forest-kaiser, lord oa the hills? Knight who on the birchen tree Carved his savage heraldry? Priest oa the pine-wood temples dim, Prophet, sage, or wizard grim? Rugged type of primal man, Grim utilitarian, Loving woods for hunt and prowl, Lake and hill for fish and fowl, As the brown bear blind and dull To the grand and beautiful: Not for him the lesson drawn From the mountains smit with dawn. Star-rise, moon-rise, flowers of May, Sunset's purple bloom of day,— Took his life no hue from thence, Poor amid such affluence? Haply unto hill and tree All too near akin was he: Unto him who stands afar Nature's marvels greatest are; Who the mountain purple seeks Must not climb the higher peaks. Yet who knows in winter tramp, Or the midnight of the camp, What revealings faint and far, Stealing down from moon and star, Kindled in that human clod Thought of destiny and God? Stateliest forest patriarch, Grand in robes of skin
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), At sundown (search)
Let this slight token of the debt I owe Outlive for thee December's frozen day, And, like the arbutus budding under snow, Take bloom and fragrance from some morn of May When he who gives it shall have gone the way Where faith shall see and reverent trust shall know. The Christmas of 1888. Low in the east, against a white, coldit seems a step might span The gulf between the boy and man. My young friends smile, as if some jay On bleak December's leafless spray Essayed to sing the songs of May. Well, let them smile, and live to know, When their brown locks are flecked with snow, Tis tedious to be always sage And pose the dignity of age, While so much of oead, cold ground. Between these gusts, to the soft lapse I hearken Of rivulets on their way; I see these tossed and naked tree-tops darken With the fresh leaves of May. This roar of storm, this sky so gray and lowering Invite the airs of Spring, A warmer sunshine over fields of flowering, The bluebird's song and wing. Closely b
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Appendix (search)
grieve, Of the pure-hearted and the gifted, come Hourly the tokens of your master's doom? Turn from their ruin! Dash your chains aside! Stand up like men for Liberty and Law, And free opinion. Check Corruption's pride, Soothe the loud storm of fratricidal war,— And the bright honors of your eventide Shall share the glory which your morning saw; The patriot's heart shall gladden at your name, Ye shall be blessed with, and not ‘damned to fame’! Album Verses. [Written in the album of May Pillsbury of West Newbury, in the fall of 1838, when Whittier was at home on a visit from Philadelphia, where he was engaged in editorial work.] Pardon a stranger hand that gives Its impress to these gilded leaves. As one who graves in idle mood An idler's name on rock or wood, So in a careless hour I claim A page to leave my humble name. Accept it; and when o'er my head A Pennsylvanian sky is spread, And but in dreams my eye looks back On broad and lovely Merrimac, And on my ear no longer<
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Index of first lines (search)
. 336. We cross the prairie as of old, III. 176. We give thy natal day to hope, III. 367. We had been wandering for many days, i. 80. We have opened the door, i. 376. Welcome home again, brave seaman! with thy thoughtful brow and gray, III. 111. We live by Faith; but Faith is not the slave, II. 327. Well speed thy mission, bold Iconoclast, III. 326. Well thought! who would not rather hear, IV. 98. We praise not now the poet's art, IV. 113. We sat together, last May-day, and talked, IV. 143. We saw the slow tides go and come, II. 67. We see not, know not; all our way, III. 217. We wait beneath the furnace-blast, III. 219. What flecks the outer gray beyond, IV. 271. What shall I say, dear friends, to whom I owe, IV. 409. What shall I wish him? Strength and health, IV. 410. What though around thee blazes, III. 100. When first I saw our banner wave, III. 234. When Freedom, on her natal day, III. 46. When on my day of life the