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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

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Baltimore, Md. (Maryland, United States) (search for this): chapter 143
48. the two Eras. April 19th, 1775, and April 19th, 1861. The Bay State bled at Lexington, But every drop that ran, By transmutation strange and strong, Sprung up an armed man:-- Sprung up, indomitably firm, And multiplied and spread, Till Freedom's amaranthine crown Enwreath'd our country's head. Yet, when the born of Lexington, Who kept their natal day, Were writing fourscore years and six Upon their annals gray, The Bay State bled at Baltimore,-- Wherefore, I may not speak; For sad and tender memories rush From heart to moisten'd cheek. And sighs of buried fathers break The cold, sepulchral bed, And hideous harpies clap their wings When brothers' blood is shed: And stars that in their courses sang, Their constellations shroud, And wind-borne echoes cry forbear! From yonder cloven cloud: While contrite souls from holy church And shaded hearth-stone pray, That He who rules above the skies, Would turn his wrath away, And rule the spirit that of old The Shepherd Abel slew,
Hartford (Connecticut, United States) (search for this): chapter 143
plied and spread, Till Freedom's amaranthine crown Enwreath'd our country's head. Yet, when the born of Lexington, Who kept their natal day, Were writing fourscore years and six Upon their annals gray, The Bay State bled at Baltimore,-- Wherefore, I may not speak; For sad and tender memories rush From heart to moisten'd cheek. And sighs of buried fathers break The cold, sepulchral bed, And hideous harpies clap their wings When brothers' blood is shed: And stars that in their courses sang, Their constellations shroud, And wind-borne echoes cry forbear! From yonder cloven cloud: While contrite souls from holy church And shaded hearth-stone pray, That He who rules above the skies, Would turn his wrath away, And rule the spirit that of old The Shepherd Abel slew, And link the hands in loving clasp, Now red with battle dew; Yes, all our Nation's sins remit, And bid His judgments cease, And in His own good time restore The blessed balm of peace. L. H. S. Hartford, Conn., April 19th.
Shepherd Abel (search for this): chapter 143
plied and spread, Till Freedom's amaranthine crown Enwreath'd our country's head. Yet, when the born of Lexington, Who kept their natal day, Were writing fourscore years and six Upon their annals gray, The Bay State bled at Baltimore,-- Wherefore, I may not speak; For sad and tender memories rush From heart to moisten'd cheek. And sighs of buried fathers break The cold, sepulchral bed, And hideous harpies clap their wings When brothers' blood is shed: And stars that in their courses sang, Their constellations shroud, And wind-borne echoes cry forbear! From yonder cloven cloud: While contrite souls from holy church And shaded hearth-stone pray, That He who rules above the skies, Would turn his wrath away, And rule the spirit that of old The Shepherd Abel slew, And link the hands in loving clasp, Now red with battle dew; Yes, all our Nation's sins remit, And bid His judgments cease, And in His own good time restore The blessed balm of peace. L. H. S. Hartford, Conn., April 19th.
April 19th (search for this): chapter 143
iplied and spread, Till Freedom's amaranthine crown Enwreath'd our country's head. Yet, when the born of Lexington, Who kept their natal day, Were writing fourscore years and six Upon their annals gray, The Bay State bled at Baltimore,-- Wherefore, I may not speak; For sad and tender memories rush From heart to moisten'd cheek. And sighs of buried fathers break The cold, sepulchral bed, And hideous harpies clap their wings When brothers' blood is shed: And stars that in their courses sang, Their constellations shroud, And wind-borne echoes cry forbear! From yonder cloven cloud: While contrite souls from holy church And shaded hearth-stone pray, That He who rules above the skies, Would turn his wrath away, And rule the spirit that of old The Shepherd Abel slew, And link the hands in loving clasp, Now red with battle dew; Yes, all our Nation's sins remit, And bid His judgments cease, And in His own good time restore The blessed balm of peace. L. H. S. Hartford, Conn., April 19th.
April 19th, 1775 AD (search for this): chapter 143
48. the two Eras. April 19th, 1775, and April 19th, 1861. The Bay State bled at Lexington, But every drop that ran, By transmutation strange and strong, Sprung up an armed man:-- Sprung up, indomitably firm, And multiplied and spread, Till Freedom's amaranthine crown Enwreath'd our country's head. Yet, when the born of Lexington, Who kept their natal day, Were writing fourscore years and six Upon their annals gray, The Bay State bled at Baltimore,-- Wherefore, I may not speak; For sad and tender memories rush From heart to moisten'd cheek. And sighs of buried fathers break The cold, sepulchral bed, And hideous harpies clap their wings When brothers' blood is shed: And stars that in their courses sang, Their constellations shroud, And wind-borne echoes cry forbear! From yonder cloven cloud: While contrite souls from holy church And shaded hearth-stone pray, That He who rules above the skies, Would turn his wrath away, And rule the spirit that of old The Shepherd Abel slew,
April 19th, 1861 AD (search for this): chapter 143
48. the two Eras. April 19th, 1775, and April 19th, 1861. The Bay State bled at Lexington, But every drop that ran, By transmutation strange and strong, Sprung up an armed man:-- Sprung up, indomitably firm, And multiplied and spread, Till Freedom's amaranthine crown Enwreath'd our country's head. Yet, when the born of Lexington, Who kept their natal day, Were writing fourscore years and six Upon their annals gray, The Bay State bled at Baltimore,-- Wherefore, I may not speak; For sad and tender memories rush From heart to moisten'd cheek. And sighs of buried fathers break The cold, sepulchral bed, And hideous harpies clap their wings When brothers' blood is shed: And stars that in their courses sang, Their constellations shroud, And wind-borne echoes cry forbear! From yonder cloven cloud: While contrite souls from holy church And shaded hearth-stone pray, That He who rules above the skies, Would turn his wrath away, And rule the spirit that of old The Shepherd Abel slew,