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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

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Chattanooga (Tennessee, United States) (search for this): chapter 164
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,rich folds in the zenith, and looks in the dawn's open eye, With its starred breast of pearl and of crimson, as if with heaven's colors to vie! Hurrah! rolls from Moccasin Point, and Hurrah! from bold Cameron's Hill! Hurrah! peals from glad Chattanooga! bliss seems every bosom to fill! Thanks, thanks, O ye heroes of Lookout! O brave Union boys! during time Shall stand this your column of glory, shall shine this your triumph sublime! To the deep mountain den of the panther the hunter climb
Moccasin Point (Mississippi, United States) (search for this): chapter 164
cleft with the fierce shooting cannon-flame, sprinkled with red dots of spray; It is havoc's wild carnival revel bequeathed to the night by the day. Dawn breaks, the sky clears — ha! the shape upon Lookout's tall crest that we see, Is the bright beaming flag of the White Star, the beautiful flag of the Free! How it waves its rich folds in the zenith, and looks in the dawn's open eye, With its starred breast of pearl and of crimson, as if with heaven's colors to vie! Hurrah! rolls from Moccasin Point, and Hurrah! from bold Cameron's Hill! Hurrah! peals from glad Chattanooga! bliss seems every bosom to fill! Thanks, thanks, O ye heroes of Lookout! O brave Union boys! during time Shall stand this your column of glory, shall shine this your triumph sublime! To the deep mountain den of the panther the hunter climbed, drove him to bay, Then fought the fierce foe till he turned and fled, bleeding and gnashing away! Fled away from the scene where so late broke his growls and he shot do
Tennessee (Tennessee, United States) (search for this): chapter 164
d fro, for the hunter his wild craggy cavern to dare! Thanks, thanks, O ye heroes of Lookout! ye girded your souls to the fight, Drew the sword, dropped the scabbard, and went in the full conscious strength of your might! Now climbing o'er rock and o'er tree-mound, up, up, by the hemlock ye swung! Now plunging through thicket and swamp, on the edge of the hollow ye hung! One hand grasped the musket, the other clutched ladder of root and of bough: The trunk the tornado had shivered, the landmark pale glimmering now, And now the mad torrent's white lightning; no drum tapped, no bugle was blown-- To the words that encouraged each other, and quick breaths, ye toiled up alone! Oh! long as the mountains shall rise o'er the waters of bright Tennessee, Shall be told the proud deeds of the White Star, the cloup-treading host of the free! The camp-fire shall blaze to the chorus, tile picketpost peal it on high, How was fought the fierce battle of Lookout — how won the grand fight of the sky
Lookout Mountain, Tenn. (Tennessee, United States) (search for this): chapter 164
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
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 midnigh
bold General Hooker, the leader that never knew fear, He's to lead us! now, comrades, be ready and give at the rolls a good cheer! I look for the time at each moment!” --just then the long-rolls swelled about, There were tramplings of steeds and of men, there was jingle and rattle and shout; Dark columns would glimmer and vanish, a rider flit by like a ghost-- There was movement all over., the valley, the movement and din of a host. 'Twas the legion so famed of the White Star, and led on by Geary the brave, That was chosen to gather the laurel or find on the mountain a grave. They crossed the dim creek of the Lookout, and toiled up the sable ascent, Till the atoms black crawling and struggling in dense upper darkness were blent. Mists, fitful in rain, came at daydawn, they spread in one mantle the skies, And we that were posted below stood and watched with our hearts in our eyes; We watched as the mists broke and joined, the quick flits and the blanks of the fray; There was thunder,
d watchfires that painted red rings through the camp: There were figures dark edging the watchfires, and groups at the front of each tent, And a tone like the murmur of waters all round from the valley upsent. D'ye see, lad, that black-looking peak? said a sergeant, scarred over and gray, To a boy, both in glow of a camp-fire, whence wavered their shadows away; “Strap tightly your drum, or you'll lose it when climbing yon hill; for the word Is to take that pricked ear of old Lookout, where Bragg's shots so often we've heard; Our noble commander has said it, and we all should be minding our prayers, By dawn we must plant the old flag where the rebels now shame us with theirs; Hurrah for bold General Hooker, the leader that never knew fear, He's to lead us! now, comrades, be ready and give at the rolls a good cheer! I look for the time at each moment!” --just then the long-rolls swelled about, There were tramplings of steeds and of men, there was jingle and rattle and shout; Dark col
Alfred B. Street (search for this): chapter 164
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
George H. Thomas (search for this): chapter 164
rom 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's quiet soothed Nature's agonized brow; A midnight of murkiest darkness, and Lookout's undefined mass Heaved grandly a frown on the welkin, a barricade nothing might pass. Its breast was sprinkled with sparkles,. its crest was dotted with gold, Telling the camps of the rebels secure as they deemed in their hold. Where glimmered the creek of the Lookout, it seemed the black dome of the night Had dropped all i
D'ye see, lad, that black-looking peak? said a sergeant, scarred over and gray, To a boy, both in glow of a camp-fire, whence wavered their shadows away; “Strap tightly your drum, or you'll lose it when climbing yon hill; for the word Is to take that pricked ear of old Lookout, where Bragg's shots so often we've heard; Our noble commander has said it, and we all should be minding our prayers, By dawn we must plant the old flag where the rebels now shame us with theirs; Hurrah for bold General Hooker, the leader that never knew fear, He's to lead us! now, comrades, be ready and give at the rolls a good cheer! I look for the time at each moment!” --just then the long-rolls swelled about, There were tramplings of steeds and of men, there was jingle and rattle and shout; Dark columns would glimmer and vanish, a rider flit by like a ghost-- There was movement all over., the valley, the movement and din of a host. 'Twas the legion so famed of the White Star, and led on by Geary the brave