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Frederick H. Dyer, Compendium of the War of the Rebellion: Regimental Histories 520 520 Browse Search
William F. Fox, Lt. Col. U. S. V., Regimental Losses in the American Civil War, 1861-1865: A Treatise on the extent and nature of the mortuary losses in the Union regiments, with full and exhaustive statistics compiled from the official records on file in the state military bureaus and at Washington 182 182 Browse Search
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 112 112 Browse Search
George Bancroft, History of the United States from the Discovery of the American Continent, Vol. 6, 10th edition. 64 64 Browse Search
George Bancroft, History of the United States from the Discovery of the American Continent, Vol. 8 38 38 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Massachusetts in the Army and Navy during the war of 1861-1865, vol. 1, Mass. officers and men who died. 36 36 Browse Search
John Beatty, The Citizen-Soldier; or, Memoirs of a Volunteer 31 31 Browse Search
George Bancroft, History of the United States from the Discovery of the American Continent, Vol. 5, 13th edition. 28 28 Browse Search
Brigadier-General Ellison Capers, Confederate Military History, a library of Confederate States Military History: Volume 5, South Carolina (ed. Clement Anselm Evans) 27 27 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 22. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 23 23 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 December or search for December in all documents.

Your search returned 6 results in 5 document sections:

The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Personal Poems (search)
eer, Or the flip that wellnigh made Glad his funeral cavalcade; Weary prose, and poet's lines, Flavored by their age, like wines, Eulogistic of some quaint, Doubtful, puritanic saint; Lays that quickened husking jigs, Jests that shook grave periwigs, When the parson had his jokes And his glass, like other folks; Sermons that, for mortal hours, Taxed our fathers' vital powers, As the long nineteenthlies poured Downward from the sounding-board, And, for fire of Pentecost, Touched their beards December's frost. Time is hastening on, and we What our fathers are shall be,— Shadow-shapes of memory! Joined to that vast multitude Where the great are but the good, And the mind of strength shall prove Weaker than the heart of love; Pride of graybeard wisdom less Than the infant's guilelessness, And his song of sorrow more Than the crown the Psalmist wore! Who shall then, with pious zeal, At our moss-grown thresholds kneel, From a stained and stony page Reading to a careless age, With a patient
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Occasional Poems (search)
ake upon a vaster sea The unreturning voyage, my friends to me. 1882. Winter roses. In reply to a flower gift from Mrs. Putnam's school at Jamaica Plain. my garden roses long ago Have perished from the leaf-strewn walks; Their pale, fair sisters smile no more Upon the sweet-brier stalks. Gone with the flower-time of my life, Spring's violets, summer's blooming pride, And Nature's winter and my own Stand, flowerless, side by side. So might I yesterday have sung; To-day, in bleak December's noon, Come sweetest fragrance, shapes, and hues, The rosy wealth of June! Bless the young hands that culled the gift, And bless the hearts that prompted it; If undeserved it comes, at least It seems not all unfit. Of old my Quaker ancestors Had gifts of forty stripes save one; To-day as many roses crown The gray head of their son. And with them, to my fancy's eye, The fresh-faced givers smiling come, And nine and thirty happy girls Make glad a lonely room. They bring the atmosphere o
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), At sundown (search)
At sundown To E. C. S. Poet and friend of poets, if thy glass Detects no flower in winter's tuft of grass, 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, cold dawn, The black-lined silhouette of the woods was. In such an atmosphere of youth I half forget my age's truth; The shadow of my life's long date Runs backward on the dial-plate, Until it 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 our early lives On memory's pla
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Appendix (search)
ensitive conscience of business We own and repent of our sins of remissness: Our honor we've yielded, our words we have swallowed; And quenching the lights which our forefathers followed, And turning from graves by their memories hallowed, With teeth on ball-cartridge, and finger on trigger, Reversed Boston Notions, and sent back a nigger!” ‘Get away!’ cried the Chivalry, busy a-drumming, And fifing and drilling, and such Quattle-bumming; “With your April-fool slave hunt! Just wait till December Shall see your new Senator stalk through the Chamber, And Puritan heresy prove neither dumb nor Blind in that pestilent Anakim, Sumner!” A Fremont Campaign song. Sound now the trumpet warningly! The storm is rolling nearer, The hour is striking clearer, In the dusky dome of sky. If dark and wild the morning be, A darker morn before us Shall fling its shadows o'er us If we let the hour go by. Sound we then the trumpet chorus! Sound the onset wild and high! Country and Liberty! Freed
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Index of first lines (search)
kipper sailed out of the harbor mouth, i. 392. The sky is ruddy in the east, III. 302. The soul itself its awful witness is, II. 329. The South-land boasts its teeming cane, III. 333. The storm and peril overpast, III. 269. The storm-wind is howling, IV. 328. The subtle power in perfume found, II. 89. The summer warmth has left the sky, II. 72. The sunlight glitters keen and bright, II. 14. The suns of eighteen centuries have shone, III. 275. The sun that brief December day, II. 135. The sweet spring day is glad with music, IV. 120. The sword was sheathed: in April's sun, IV. 286. The tall, sallow guardsmen their horsetails have spread, III. 356. The tent-lights glimmer on the land, III. 230. The threads our hands in blindness spin, II. 311. The time of gifts has come again, II. 64. The tossing spray of Cocheco's fall, i. 400. The tree of Faith its bare, dry boughs must shed, II. 339. The wave is breaking on the shore, III. 63.