Black and White: A Journal of a Three Months' Tour in the United States

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MacMillan and Company, 1887 - Atlantic States - 304 pages

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Page 41 - Maryland! Thou wilt not crook to his control, Maryland! Better the fire upon thee roll, Better the shot, the blade, the bowl, Than crucifixion of the soul, Maryland, my Maryland! I hear the distant thunder hum, Maryland! The Old Line's bugle, fife, and drum, Maryland ! She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb; Huzza!
Page 50 - Where the dead and dying lay, Wounded by bayonets, shells, and balls, Somebody's Darling was borne one day : — Somebody's Darling, so young and so brave, Wearing yet, on his pale, sweet face, Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave, The lingering light of his boyhood's grace. Matted and damp are the curls of gold...
Page 50 - ... damp are the curls of gold, Kissing the snow of that fair young brow; Pale are the lips of delicate mould — Somebody's Darling is dying now. Back from his beautiful blue-veined brow Brush all the wandering waves of gold. Cross his hands on his bosom now, Somebody's Darling is still and cold.
Page 46 - His musket falls slack ; his face, dark and grim, Grows gentle with memories tender, As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep; For their mother — may Heaven defend her!
Page 40 - Maryland ! For life and death, for woe and weal, Thy peerless chivalry reveal, And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, Maryland ! My Maryland...
Page 40 - The despot's heel is on thy shore, Maryland ! His torch is at thy temple door, Maryland! Avenge the patriotic gore That flecked the streets of Baltimore, And be the battle queen of yore, Maryland! My Maryland!
Page 47 - And the life-blood is ebbing and plashing. All quiet along the Potomac to-night, — No sound save the rush of the river; While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead, — The picket's off duty forever.
Page 41 - I see the blush upon thy cheek, Maryland! For thou wast ever bravely meek, Maryland ! But lo! there surges forth a shriek, From hill to hill, from creek to creek, Potomac calls to Chesapeake, Maryland, my Maryland! Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll, Maryland!
Page 47 - For their mother : may Heaven defend her ! The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then, That night when the love yet unspoken Leaped up to his lips, when low murmured vows Were pledged to be ever unbroken ; Then, drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, He dashes off tears that are welling, And gathers his gun closer up to its place, As if to keep down the heart-swelling. He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree ; The footstep is lagging and weary, Yet onward he goes through the broad...
Page 49 - Is there any news of the war?" she said. " Only a list of the wounded and dead," Was the man's reply, Without lifting his eye To the face of the woman standing by. " 'Tis the very thing I want," she said ; " Read me a list of the wounded and dead." He read the list — 'twas a sad array Of the wounded and killed in the fatal fray. In the very midst, was a pause to tell Of a gallant youth who fought so well That his comrades asked : " Who is he, pray ?" " The only son of the Widow Gray," Was the...

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