Poems of American PatriotismL. C. Page, 1898 - 421 pages |
From inside the book
Page 161
... Captain ! my Captain ! our fearful trip is done , The ship has weather'd every rack , the prize we sought is won , The port is near , the bells I hear , the people all exulting , While follow eyes the steady keel , the vessel grim and ...
... Captain ! my Captain ! our fearful trip is done , The ship has weather'd every rack , the prize we sought is won , The port is near , the bells I hear , the people all exulting , While follow eyes the steady keel , the vessel grim and ...
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Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Alamo band battle battle-cry battle's bell'wing thunders roar beneath blood blow blue boys boys are marching brave breast breath brothers bugle cannon Captain Charles Carroll Sawyer cheer CHORUS Columbia Cuba dark dead death decks drum Edmund Clarence Stedman eyes fame Farragut fell fight fire is flashing flag flame fleet fought fray freedom gallant gleam grave gray guns hail hand hear heart heroes Hurrah John Burns land Lay him low light lips Manila Bay marching through Georgia Monterey morn neath never night o'er ocean Old Glory peace regiment rifles ringing roll sail Sam Walter Foss shine ships shore shot shout silent sing smoke soldier song soul Spain Star Spangled Banner stars and stripes steel storm strike sword tears thee Theodore O'Hara There's thro tramp tread victory war's wave wind Yankee
Popular passages
Page 85 - Ay, tear her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar; — The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes...
Page 165 - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.
Page 163 - O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done; The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port" is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring. But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Page 114 - The muffled drum's sad roll has beat The soldier's last tattoo ; No more on life's parade shall meet That brave and fallen few. On Fame's eternal camping ground Their silent tents are spread, And Glory guards with solemn round The bivouac of the dead.
Page 165 - I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps. His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel: As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal. Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel — Since God is marching on.
Page 6 - COLUMBIA, the gem of the ocean, The home of the brave and the free, The shrine of each patriot's devotion, A world offers homage to thee ! Thy mandates make heroes assemble, When Liberty's form stands in view ; Thy banners make Tyranny tremble, When borne by the red, white, and blue.
Page 166 - He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat : Oh ! be swift, my soul, to answer Him ! be jubilant, my feet ! Our God is marching on. In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me : As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on.
Page 47 - Hats off! Along the street there comes A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums; And loyal hearts are beating high: Hats off! The flag is passing by!
Page 4 - Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song ! Let mortal tongues awake ; Let all that breathe partake ; Let rocks their silence break,— The sound prolong ! Our fathers...
Page 190 - ... and the heart of the master Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls, Impatient to be where the battle-field calls ; Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play, With Sheridan only ten miles away. Under his spurning feet the road Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed, And the landscape sped away behind Like an ocean flying before the wind; And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace ire, Swept on, with his wild eye full of fire.