Gettysburg: A Battle Ode (George Parsons Lathrop Poems)
IVictors, living, with laureled brow,And you that sleep beneath the sward!Your song was poured from cannon throats:It rang in deep-tongued ...
IVictors, living, with laureled brow,And you that sleep beneath the sward!Your song was poured from cannon throats:It rang in deep-tongued ...
IDeep, smoldering colors of the land and seaBurn in these stones, that, by some mystery,Wrap fire in sleep and never ...
IThe trumpet, with a giant sound,Its harsh war-summons wildly sings;And, bursting forth like mountain-springs,Poured from the hillside camping-ground,Each swift battalion ...
IAh, who shall sound the hero's funeral march?And what shall be the music of his dirge?No single voice may chant ...
"Who is Blackmouth?" Well, that's hard to say.Mebbe he might ha' told you, 't other day,If you'd been here. Now,-he's ...
The sun had set;The leaves with dew were wet:Down fell a bloody duskOn the woods, that second day of May,Where ...
Far out at sea there has been a storm,And still, as they roll their liquid acres,High-heaped the billows lower and ...
Beauty and splendor were on every hand:Yet strangely crawled dark shadows down the lanes,Twisting across the fields, like dragon-shapesThat smote ...
Haunted by unknown feet-Ways of the midnight hour!Strangely you murmur below me,Strange is your half-silent power.Places of life and of ...
Strike hands, young men!We know not whenDeath or disaster comes,Mightier than battle-drumsTo summon us away.Death bids us say farewellTo all ...
(FRANCIS HAWTHORNE LATHROP)FEBRUARY 6, 1881Come not again! I dwell with youAbove the realm of frost and dew,Of pain and fire, ...
(A REPLY)Yes, I was wrong about the phoebe-bird.Two songs it has, and both of them I've heard:I did not know ...
Autumn is gone: through the blue woodlands bareShatters the rainy wind. A myriad leaves,Like birds that fly the mournful Northern ...
With my beloved I lingered late one night.At last the hour when I must leave her came:But, as I turned, ...
O wholesome Death, thy sombre funeral-carLooms ever dimly on the lengthening wayOf life; while, lengthening still, in sad array,My deeds ...
I warn, like the one drop of rainOn your face, ere the storm;Or tremble in whispered refrainWith your blood, beating ...
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