Die Sklavenmacht: Blicke in die Geschichte der Vereinigten Staaten von Amerika zur Erklärung der Rebellion von 1860-1865

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Stilke & van Muyden, 1865 - 158 pages

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Page 157 - In her attic, window the staff she set, To show that one heart was loyal yet. Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. Under his slouched hat left and right He glanced; the old flag met his sight. "Halt!
Page 157 - And shook it forth with a royal will. ' Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag,
Page 157 - But spare your country's flag," she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came ; The nobler nature within him stirred To life at that woman's deed and word : " Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog ! March on !
Page 158 - Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, And the Rebel rides on his raids no more. Honor to her! and let a tear Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier. Over Barbara Frietchie's grave, Flag of Freedom and Union, wave! Peace and order and beauty draw Round thy symbol of light and law; And ever the stars above look down On thy stars below in Frederick town!
Page 156 - Fair as a garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famished rebel horde On that pleasant morn of the early fall When Lee marched over the mountain wall, Over the mountains winding down, Horse and foot into Frederick town.
Page 156 - Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapp'd in the morning wind : the sun Of noon look'd down, and saw not one. Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, Bow'd with her fourscore years and ten ; Bravest of all in Frederick town, She took up the flag the men haul'd down ; In her attic window the staff she set, To show that one heart was loyal yet.
Page 156 - UP from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Page 119 - David aber sprach zu dem Philister: Du kommst zu mir mit Schwert, Spieß und Schild; ich aber komme zu dir im Namen des Herrn Zebaoth, des Gottes des Zeuges Israel«, den du 46 gehöhnet Haft.
Page 157 - Over the heads of the rebel host Ever its torn folds rose and fell On the loyal winds that loved it well; And through the hill-gaps sunset light Shone over it with a warm good-night Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, And the Rebel rides on his raids no more.
Page 52 - So don't prose to me about duty and stuff, — If we don't break this off, there will be time enough For that sort of thing; but the bargain must be, That as long as I choose I am perfectly free: For this is a sort of engagement, you see, Which is binding on you, but not binding on me...

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