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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 7. (ed. Frank Moore) 4 0 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore) 4 0 Browse Search
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 2 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for Alfred B. Street or search for Alfred B. Street in all documents.

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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore), 58. Colonel Lewis Benedict. (search)
58. Colonel Lewis Benedict. by Alfred B. Street. [The following lines on the death of Colonel Lewis Benedict, who fell while leading his brigade at the battle of Pleasant Hill, Louisiana, April 9, 1864, were recited by James E. Murdoch, before the New-York Legislature, on the second of February, 1865.] We laid him in his last and patriot rest; Dark Death but couched him on Fame's living breast. We twine the sorrowing cypress o'er his grave, And let the star-bright banner loftier wave At mention of his deeds! In manhood's prime, Blossoms the pinions waved by smiling Time, He left life's warbling bowers for duty's path, Where the fierce war-storm flashed its reddest wrath; Path proud, though rough; outrang the trumpet's blast: “To arms, to arms! down to the dust is cast The flag, the dear old flag, by treason's hand!” And the deep thundering sound rolled onward through the land. In the quick throngs of fiery life that rushed To smite for native land till wrong was crushed And ri
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore), 81. Lookout mountain. (search)
81. Lookout mountain. by Alfred B. Street. For months that followed the triumph the rebels had boasted they wrought, But which lost to them Chattanooga, thus bringing their triumph to naught; The mountain-walled citadel city, with its outposts in billowy crowds, Grand soarers among the lightnings, stern conquerors of the clouds! For months, I say, had the rebels, with the eyes of their cannon, looked down From the high-crested forehead of Lookout, the Mission's long sinuous crown; Till Grant, our invincible hero, the winner of every fight! Who joys in the strife, like the eagle that drinks from the storm delight! Marshalled his war-worn legions, and, pointing to them the foe, Kindled their hearts with the tidings that now should be stricken the blow, The rebel to sweep from old Lookout, that cloud-post dizzily high, Whence the taunt of his cannon and banner had affronted so long the sky. Brave Thomas the foeman had brushed from his summit the nearest, and now The balm of the midnight