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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

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Baltimore, Md. (Maryland, United States) (search for this): chapter 144
49. the Sixth at Baltimore. by B. P. Shillaber. Our country called on her sons for aid, And we shouldered lag our Fathers bore-- And our pathway led through Baltimore. There was no moment for doubts or fears, There wur land we swore Ere we marched to its aid through Baltimore. And godly hands in blessing were spread, And smion never known before, As we took up our march for Baltimore. 'Twas April nineteenth, and the sun That had seestern face wore, That we saw as we marched through Baltimore. Then hateful glances took sterner form, And raind the angry roar That swept through the streets of Baltimore. Not a shout or cry in our ranks was beard, But ohough sternly, we deplore Our own brave, fallen at Baltimore. But the guerdon of glory ‘s for those who fall; they who life gave o'er On the bloody pavements of Baltimore. The dead return — the arms to nerve And hearts t, And heroes vow from their hearts' deep core To follow the Sixth through Baltimore. --Boston Evening Gazet
Gazette (search for this): chapter 144
hen hateful glances took sterner form, And rained upon us a fearful storm; Fierce terrible missiles around us fell, 'Mid oaths 'twould shame the sons of hell, But we quailed not 'mid the angry roar That swept through the streets of Baltimore. Not a shout or cry in our ranks was beard, But our rifles spoke the voiceless word, And our leaden sentences went deep To put seditious hearts to sleep; But sadly, though sternly, we deplore Our own brave, fallen at Baltimore. But the guerdon of glory ‘s for those who fall; For the nation's flag is their funeral pall, And the nation's tears the turf bedew That covers their hearts so bold and true; Deathless are they who life gave o'er On the bloody pavements of Baltimore. The dead return — the arms to nerve And hearts to strengthen that else might swerve; They speak again from the silent sod In a voice that stirs like the voice of God, And heroes vow from their hearts' deep core To follow the Sixth through Baltimore. --Boston Evening Gazette
B. P. Shillaber (search for this): chapter 144
49. the Sixth at Baltimore. by B. P. Shillaber. Our country called on her sons for aid, And we shouldered the gun and drew the blade, Leaving the anvil, the plough, and the saw, To fight for the Union and for law-- To fight for the flag our Fathers bore-- And our pathway led through Baltimore. There was no moment for doubts or fears, There was no time for sighs or tears; We said “good bye” with hurried breath, Then marched to the field of life or death, And fealty to our land we swore Ere we marched to its aid through Baltimore. And godly hands in blessing were spread, And smiles from beauty were on us shed, And the starry flag that we bore in pride, Was cheered and lauded on every side, With devotion never known before, As we took up our march for Baltimore. 'Twas April nineteenth, and the sun That had seen the carnage at Lexington, Shone on us as we took our way Through lanes of traitors in hate's array, And a scowling look each stern face wore, That we saw as we marched thr
April 19th (search for this): chapter 144
timore. There was no moment for doubts or fears, There was no time for sighs or tears; We said “good bye” with hurried breath, Then marched to the field of life or death, And fealty to our land we swore Ere we marched to its aid through Baltimore. And godly hands in blessing were spread, And smiles from beauty were on us shed, And the starry flag that we bore in pride, Was cheered and lauded on every side, With devotion never known before, As we took up our march for Baltimore. 'Twas April nineteenth, and the sun That had seen the carnage at Lexington, Shone on us as we took our way Through lanes of traitors in hate's array, And a scowling look each stern face wore, That we saw as we marched through Baltimore. Then hateful glances took sterner form, And rained upon us a fearful storm; Fierce terrible missiles around us fell, 'Mid oaths 'twould shame the sons of hell, But we quailed not 'mid the angry roar That swept through the streets of Baltimore. Not a shout or cry in our ranks