hide Sorting

You can sort these results in two ways:

By entity
Chronological order for dates, alphabetical order for places and people.
By position (current method)
As the entities appear in the document.

You are currently sorting in ascending order. Sort in descending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

The entities that appear most frequently in this document are shown below.

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
U. S. Grant 40 0 Browse Search
Raphael Semmes 26 0 Browse Search
Jefferson Davis 24 0 Browse Search
Fort Pillow (Tennessee, United States) 14 0 Browse Search
A. Lincoln 12 0 Browse Search
Farragut 9 1 Browse Search
Rocky Face (Georgia, United States) 8 0 Browse Search
Stonewall Jackson 8 0 Browse Search
Georgia (Georgia, United States) 8 0 Browse Search
Washington (United States) 8 0 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 9. (ed. Frank Moore).

Found 504 total hits in 189 results.

1 2 3 4 5 6 ...
ould be free! Hail to her captain and crew! Hail to her banner blue! Hail to her deathless fame! Hail to her granite name! Haughty Britannia no longer can boast That she rules the ocean waves; Her fame is dead, and its sheeted ghost Stalks discrowned on her chalky coast, Mocked by Columbia's braves. Hail to the queen of the sea! Hail to the hopes of the free! Hail to the navy that spoke! Hail to our hearts of oak! The British lion may cease his roar: For his darling privateer, At sea a pirate, a thief on shore, Now lies a wreck on the ocean floor, No longer a buccaneer. Hail to our Yankee tars! Hail to the Stripes and Stars I Hail Winslow, chief of the sea? Hail to his victory! Cheers!--“Two-Ninety,” the robber, is dead! And Semmes, the pirate-in-chief, A swordless coward, defea<*>, has fled, Bearing the curse of the<*>a on his head, To England, the home of the thief. Hail to our holy cause! Hail to our equal laws! Hail to our peace to be! Hail to all nations free! George W. Bung
Raphael Semmes (search for this): chapter 1
hould be free! Hail to her captain and crew! Hail to her banner blue! Hail to her deathless fame! Hail to her granite name! Haughty Britannia no longer can boast That she rules the ocean waves; Her fame is dead, and its sheeted ghost Stalks discrowned on her chalky coast, Mocked by Columbia's braves. Hail to the queen of the sea! Hail to the hopes of the free! Hail to the navy that spoke! Hail to our hearts of oak! The British lion may cease his roar: For his darling privateer, At sea a pirate, a thief on shore, Now lies a wreck on the ocean floor, No longer a buccaneer. Hail to our Yankee tars! Hail to the Stripes and Stars I Hail Winslow, chief of the sea? Hail to his victory! Cheers!--“Two-Ninety,” the robber, is dead! And Semmes, the pirate-in-chief, A swordless coward, defea<*>, has fled, Bearing the curse of the<*>a on his head, To England, the home of the thief. Hail to our holy cause! Hail to our equal laws! Hail to our peace to be! Hail to all nations free! George W. Bung
George W. Bungay (search for this): chapter 1
ould be free! Hail to her captain and crew! Hail to her banner blue! Hail to her deathless fame! Hail to her granite name! Haughty Britannia no longer can boast That she rules the ocean waves; Her fame is dead, and its sheeted ghost Stalks discrowned on her chalky coast, Mocked by Columbia's braves. Hail to the queen of the sea! Hail to the hopes of the free! Hail to the navy that spoke! Hail to our hearts of oak! The British lion may cease his roar: For his darling privateer, At sea a pirate, a thief on shore, Now lies a wreck on the ocean floor, No longer a buccaneer. Hail to our Yankee tars! Hail to the Stripes and Stars I Hail Winslow, chief of the sea? Hail to his victory! Cheers!--“Two-Ninety,” the robber, is dead! And Semmes, the pirate-in-chief, A swordless coward, defea<*>, has fled, Bearing the curse of the<*>a on his head, To England, the home of the thief. Hail to our holy cause! Hail to our equal laws! Hail to our peace to be! Hail to all nations free! George W. Bungay
England (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 1
ould be free! Hail to her captain and crew! Hail to her banner blue! Hail to her deathless fame! Hail to her granite name! Haughty Britannia no longer can boast That she rules the ocean waves; Her fame is dead, and its sheeted ghost Stalks discrowned on her chalky coast, Mocked by Columbia's braves. Hail to the queen of the sea! Hail to the hopes of the free! Hail to the navy that spoke! Hail to our hearts of oak! The British lion may cease his roar: For his darling privateer, At sea a pirate, a thief on shore, Now lies a wreck on the ocean floor, No longer a buccaneer. Hail to our Yankee tars! Hail to the Stripes and Stars I Hail Winslow, chief of the sea? Hail to his victory! Cheers!--“Two-Ninety,” the robber, is dead! And Semmes, the pirate-in-chief, A swordless coward, defea<*>, has fled, Bearing the curse of the<*>a on his head, To England, the home of the thief. Hail to our holy cause! Hail to our equal laws! Hail to our peace to be! Hail to all nations free! George W. Bung
Columbia (South Carolina, United States) (search for this): chapter 1
1. hail to the Kearsarge. Hail to the Kearsarge, castle of oak, And pride of the heaving sea! Hail to her guns, whose thunder awoke The waves, and startled with lightning stroke The nations that should be free! Hail to her captain and crew! Hail to her banner blue! Hail to her deathless fame! Hail to her granite name! Haughty Britannia no longer can boast That she rules the ocean waves; Her fame is dead, and its sheeted ghost Stalks discrowned on her chalky coast, Mocked by Columbia's braves. Hail to the queen of the sea! Hail to the hopes of the free! Hail to the navy that spoke! Hail to our hearts of oak! The British lion may cease his roar: For his darling privateer, At sea a pirate, a thief on shore, Now lies a wreck on the ocean floor, No longer a buccaneer. Hail to our Yankee tars! Hail to the Stripes and Stars I Hail Winslow, chief of the sea? Hail to his victory! Cheers!--“Two-Ninety,” the robber, is dead! And Semmes, the pirate-in-chief, A swordless coward, defea<*>, has
pick up aught that might be afloat, And amongst other less precious spoil, Fished swordless Semmes from his watery coil! “Hide me!” the gallant cried in affright; “Cover me up from the Yankee's sight.” Heigh-ho! they laid him low, With a bit of sail to hide his woe. Safely they bore the chief aboard, Leaving behind his fame and sword; And then the Deerhound stole away, Lest Winslow's guns might have a say; Landed him in Southampton town, Where heroes like him have had renown, Ever since Lawrence, Perry, and Hull, Took hold of the horns of great John Bull. Had I been Winslow, I say to you, As the sea is green, the sky is blue, Through the Deerhound I'd have sent a shot, And John might have liked the thing or not I Heigh-ho! come soon or slow, In the end we are bound to have a blow. What said the Frenchman from his hill, After the cannon-shots were still? What said the Briton from his deck, Gazing down on the sunken wreck? Something was said of guns like mortars, And something of s
he gallant cried in affright; “Cover me up from the Yankee's sight.” Heigh-ho! they laid him low, With a bit of sail to hide his woe. Safely they bore the chief aboard, Leaving behind his fame and sword; And then the Deerhound stole away, Lest Winslow's guns might have a say; Landed him in Southampton town, Where heroes like him have had renown, Ever since Lawrence, Perry, and Hull, Took hold of the horns of great John Bull. Had I been Winslow, I say to you, As the sea is green, the sky is blWinslow, I say to you, As the sea is green, the sky is blue, Through the Deerhound I'd have sent a shot, And John might have liked the thing or not I Heigh-ho! come soon or slow, In the end we are bound to have a blow. What said the Frenchman from his hill, After the cannon-shots were still? What said the Briton from his deck, Gazing down on the sunken wreck? Something was said of guns like mortars, And something of smooth-bores at close quarters; Chain armor furnished a word or two, But the end of all was both looked blue. They sighed again o'er th
John Bull (search for this): chapter 2
tretched forth the flag of his outraged land. In vain he hoisted his sails to flee; For each foot he sailed, his foe sailed three. Heigh-ho! “Why, here's a blow,” Said Semmes, as he hauled his flag below. Well was it for the cavalier, That brother Bull was lying near. His vessel with a haughty curl Turned up her nose, and in the whirl Of the white sea, stern foremost, tore As if in scorn of the crew she bore. Then the thrifty Briton launched his boat, To pick up aught that might be afloat, And aing behind his fame and sword; And then the Deerhound stole away, Lest Winslow's guns might have a say; Landed him in Southampton town, Where heroes like him have had renown, Ever since Lawrence, Perry, and Hull, Took hold of the horns of great John Bull. Had I been Winslow, I say to you, As the sea is green, the sky is blue, Through the Deerhound I'd have sent a shot, And John might have liked the thing or not I Heigh-ho! come soon or slow, In the end we are bound to have a blow. What said th
aught that might be afloat, And amongst other less precious spoil, Fished swordless Semmes from his watery coil! “Hide me!” the gallant cried in affright; “Cover me up from the Yankee's sight.” Heigh-ho! they laid him low, With a bit of sail to hide his woe. Safely they bore the chief aboard, Leaving behind his fame and sword; And then the Deerhound stole away, Lest Winslow's guns might have a say; Landed him in Southampton town, Where heroes like him have had renown, Ever since Lawrence, Perry, and Hull, Took hold of the horns of great John Bull. Had I been Winslow, I say to you, As the sea is green, the sky is blue, Through the Deerhound I'd have sent a shot, And John might have liked the thing or not I Heigh-ho! come soon or slow, In the end we are bound to have a blow. What said the Frenchman from his hill, After the cannon-shots were still? What said the Briton from his deck, Gazing down on the sunken wreck? Something was said of guns like mortars, And something of smooth-bo
might be afloat, And amongst other less precious spoil, Fished swordless Semmes from his watery coil! “Hide me!” the gallant cried in affright; “Cover me up from the Yankee's sight.” Heigh-ho! they laid him low, With a bit of sail to hide his woe. Safely they bore the chief aboard, Leaving behind his fame and sword; And then the Deerhound stole away, Lest Winslow's guns might have a say; Landed him in Southampton town, Where heroes like him have had renown, Ever since Lawrence, Perry, and Hull, Took hold of the horns of great John Bull. Had I been Winslow, I say to you, As the sea is green, the sky is blue, Through the Deerhound I'd have sent a shot, And John might have liked the thing or not I Heigh-ho! come soon or slow, In the end we are bound to have a blow. What said the Frenchman from his hill, After the cannon-shots were still? What said the Briton from his deck, Gazing down on the sunken wreck? Something was said of guns like mortars, And something of smooth-bores at clos
1 2 3 4 5 6 ...