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Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 1, Colonial and Revolutionary Literature: Early National Literature: Part I (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.) 20 0 Browse Search
Knight's Mechanical Encyclopedia (ed. Knight) 12 0 Browse Search
Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 2 (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.) 7 1 Browse Search
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier) 6 0 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore) 6 0 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore) 6 0 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 7. (ed. Frank Moore) 4 0 Browse Search
Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 3 (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.) 4 0 Browse Search
Frederick H. Dyer, Compendium of the War of the Rebellion: Regimental Histories 4 0 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 18. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 4 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for Swift or search for Swift in all documents.

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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 43 (search)
ldering dust of death Is shovelled in the vaults of coffined realms, What Nemesis insatiate still inspires The suicide of Empires? In her breast, Greece nursed the serpent faction with her blood, That stung her to the heart. Rebellion's steel Pierced the fair bosom of imperial Rome By foreign foes unconquered; and the land Of God's own people drank the fatal cup Which dark dissension pressed upon her lips. As midnight's bell proclaims with double tongue One year departed and another born, Swift throng around me with imperial mien And god-like brow, and eyes of sad reproach, As angels look in sorrow, the great dead Who walked Mount Vernon's shades, and Marshfield's plains, And Monticello's height, and Ashland's groves Still vocal with unearthly eloquence-- Statesmen and Chiefs who loved their native land And led her up to fame. With solemn air And thrilling voice they point to freedom's flag, War-rent and laced with sacrificial blood By noble martyrs shed; and thus they speak-- “
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 89 (search)
ft for the field of fight. The arms that wield the axe must pour An iron tempest on the foe; His serried ranks shall reel before The arm that lays the panther low. And ye who breast the mountain storm By grassy steep or highland lake, Come, for the land ye love to form A bulwark that no foe can break. Stand, like your own gray cliffs that mock The whirlwind, stand in her defence: The blast as soon shall move the rock As rushing squadrons bear ye thence. And ye, whose homes are by her grand Swift rivers, rising far away, Come from the depth of her green land As mighty in your march as they; As terrible as when the rains Have swelled them over bank and bourne, With sudden floods to drown the plains And sweep along the woods uptorn. And ye who throng, beside the deep, Her ports and hamlets of the strand, In number like the waves that leap On his long murmuring marge of sand, Come, like that deep, when, o'er his brim, He rises, all his floods to pour, And flings the proudest barks that
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 300 (search)
sing and marching in order, Leaving the plough, and the anvil and loom. Rust dims the harvest sheen Of scythe and sickle keen, The axe sleeps in peace by the tree it would mar, Veteran and youth are out, Swelling the battle-shout, Grasping the bolts of the thunders of war. Our brave mountain-eagles swoop from the eyrie, Our little panthers leap from forest and plain; Out of the West flash the flames of the prairie, Out of the East roll the waves of the main. Down from their Northern shores, Swift as Niagara pours, [its jar, They march, and their tread wakes the earth with Under the Stripes and Stars, Each with the soul of Mars, Grasping the bolts of the thunders of war. Spite of the sword, or assassin's stiletto, While throbs a heart in the breast of the brave, The oak of the North or the Southern palmetto Shall shelter no foe, except in his grave. While the Gulf-billow breaks, Echoing the Northern lakes, And ocean replies unto ocean afar, Yield we no inch of land, While there's a p