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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.

Found 4 total hits in 2 results.

Portland (Maine, United States) (search for this): chapter 458
144. battle anthem. by John Neal. Up, Christian warrior, up! I hear The trumpet of the North Sounding the charge! Fathers and sons, to horse! Fling the old standard forth, Blazing and large! And now I hear the heavy tramp Of nations on the march, Silent as death! A slowly-gathering host, Like clouds o'er yonder arch, Holding their breath! Our great blue sky is overcast; And stars are dropping out, Through smoke and flame I Hail-stones and coals of fire I Now comes the battle-shout I Jehovah's name! And now the rebel pomp! To prayer I Look to your stirrups, men I Yonder rides death! Now with a whirlwind-sweep.! Empty their saddles when Hot comes their breath! As through the midnight forest tears With trumpeting and fire A thunder-blast; So, Reapers, tear your way Through yonder camp, until you hear, “It is enough! Put up thy sword I Oh, Angel of the Lord! My wrath is past!” --Portland (Ale.) Transcri
John Neal (search for this): chapter 458
144. battle anthem. by John Neal. Up, Christian warrior, up! I hear The trumpet of the North Sounding the charge! Fathers and sons, to horse! Fling the old standard forth, Blazing and large! And now I hear the heavy tramp Of nations on the march, Silent as death! A slowly-gathering host, Like clouds o'er yonder arch, Holding their breath! Our great blue sky is overcast; And stars are dropping out, Through smoke and flame I Hail-stones and coals of fire I Now comes the battle-shout I Jehovah's name! And now the rebel pomp! To prayer I Look to your stirrups, men I Yonder rides death! Now with a whirlwind-sweep.! Empty their saddles when Hot comes their breath! As through the midnight forest tears With trumpeting and fire A thunder-blast; So, Reapers, tear your way Through yonder camp, until you hear, “It is enough! Put up thy sword I Oh, Angel of the Lord! My wrath is past!” --Portland (Ale.) Transcri