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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 7. (ed. Frank Moore) 2 0 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 5. (ed. Frank Moore) 2 0 Browse Search
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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 7. (ed. Frank Moore), The old Ship of State. (search)
The old Ship of State. by David Barker, of Exeter) me. O'er the dark and gloomy horizon that bounds her, Through the storm and the night and the hell that surrounds her, I can see, with a faith which immortals have given, Burning words, blazing out o'er the portals of Heaven-- “She will live!” But a part of the freight which our forefathers gave her We must cast to the deep yawning waters to save her-- 'Tis the chain of the slave we must fling out to light her, 'Tis the brand and the whip we must yield up to right her. She will live! Clear the decks of the curse! If opposed by the owner, Hurl the wretch to the wave, as they hurled over Jonah; With a “Freedom to all!” gleaming forth from our banner, Let the tyrant yet learn we have freemen to man her. She will live! She will live while a billow lies swelling before her, She will live while the blue arch of heaven bends o'er her, While the name of a Christ to the fallen we cherish, Till the hopes in the breast of humanity per
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 5. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 172 (search)
63. the empty sleeve. [inscribed to Gen. Howard, of Maine, who lost his right arm in defence of his Country.] by David Barker. By the moon's pale light to a gazing throng, Let me tell one tale, let me sing one song! 'Tis a tale devoid of an aim or plan, 'Tis a simple song of a one-arm man. Till this very hour I could ne'er believe What a tell-tale thing is an empty sleeve-- What a weird, queer thing is an empty sleeve. It tells in a silent tone to all, Of a country's need and a country's call, Of a kiss and a tear for a child and wife, And a hurried march for a nation's life: Till this very hour who could e'er believe What a tell-tale thing is an empty sleeve-- What a weird, queer thing is an empty sleeve? It tells of a battle-field of gore-- Of the sabre's clash — of the cannon's roar-- Of the deadly charge — of the bugle's note-- Of a gurgling sound in a foeman's throat-- Of the whizzing grape — of the fiery shell-- Of a scene which mimics the scenes of hell: Till this very hour <