hide Matching Documents

The documents where this entity occurs most often are shown below. Click on a document to open it.

Document Max. Freq Min. Freq
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 8 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, Diary from December 17, 1860 - April 30, 1864 (ed. Frank Moore) 6 0 Browse Search
Capt. Calvin D. Cowles , 23d U. S. Infantry, Major George B. Davis , U. S. Army, Leslie J. Perry, Joseph W. Kirkley, The Official Military Atlas of the Civil War 5 1 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore) 4 0 Browse Search
Benson J. Lossing, Pictorial Field Book of the Civil War. Volume 1. 4 0 Browse Search
Robert Underwood Johnson, Clarence Clough Buell, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War: Volume 2. 4 0 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore) 4 0 Browse Search
Robert Underwood Johnson, Clarence Clough Buell, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War: The Opening Battles. Volume 1. 4 0 Browse Search
Benson J. Lossing, Pictorial Field Book of the Civil War. Volume 3. 4 0 Browse Search
View all matching documents...

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 Cornfield Point (Maryland, United States) or search for Cornfield Point (Maryland, United States) in all documents.

Your search returned 3 results in 3 document sections:

ith fair, promising lips, and arms O'erladen with the gifts, should make me rich. And like a bauble-loving child, I fear My hands have grasped the tinsel, not the gold. And yet I would not lose my last year's life; I had no love for the dear mother-land, No holy pride in her free floating flag, Till Sumter fell, and hearts beat martially, And voices rang like trumpets in my ears, And gathering thousands sought the Capital, To stay the threatening flood that treason poured. A year ago, upon Potomac's banks, Silence was sleeping; and the stars shone down On quiet cities, on the talking waves, Or glanced through lovely forests. But to-night The hills are white with tents; the camp-fires glow; The cannon wait to utter burning words; The sentries keep their watch. And God looks down Upon the infant nation as it learns A newer, harder lesson. There are homes That rang with mirth and song a year ago, Whose lights are quenched in death. Young hearts have laid Their life upon the altar, a
as ever, With their battle-shout and blade, They shed new lustre on their mother, When that final charge they made. So let the Yankees, etc. Old Abe may make another effort, For to take his onward way, But his legions then as ever, Will be forced to run away. So let the Yankees, etc. Brave Jeff. and glorious Beauregard, With dashing Johnston, noble, true, Will meet their hireling hosts again, And scatter them like morning dew. So let the Yankees, etc. When the Hessian horde is driven, O'er Potomac's classic flood, The pulses of a new-born freedom, Then will stir old Maryland's blood. So let the Yankees, etc. From the lofty Alleghanies, To old Worcester's sea-washed shore, Her sons will come to greet the victors, There in good old Baltimore. So let the Yankees, etc. Then with voices light and gladsome, We will swell the choral strain, Telling that our dear old mother, Glorious Maryland's free again. So let the Yankees, etc. Then we'll crown our warrior chieftains, Who have led us in t
be a beacon-brand. At each Iowa hearth stood stern a mailed man-- Young Kansas knelt in wrath, and swore with Michigan! A wall of flame blazed up the border-line; A thousand camp-fires lit the midnight sky; The white tents glistened in the trampled rye; An armed man replaced each ash and pine; The trooper rode where erst had grazed his kine; The barley-blades grew up to bayonets; A navy tore the frightened fisher's nets; A crusade swarmed across each mount and moor, Their fane to rescue by Potomac's shore; The first great hearts beat out at Baltimore. O zeal too rash! O treason too profound! O feeble king! O keen and subtle Warwick! O quiet plains that blood has made historic! O simple hearts that valor has renowned! O carnivals where vulture gorged with hound! O martyrdoms where yet the relics bleach! O agonies that words can never reach! O heroisms that must ever thrill! The brook is red that flows by Centreville; The Leesburg bluffs are ghostly in the dun, A thousand spectres st