The Battle of Gettysburg: An Historical Account

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Press of L. S. Hart, 1885 - 128 Seiten
 

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Seite 106 - It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us ; that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion ; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain ; that the nation shall, under God, have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
Seite 110 - While on the left — where now the graves Undulate like the living waves That all that day unceasing swept Up to the pits the rebels kept — Round shot ploughed the upland glades, Sown with bullets, reaped with blades ; Shattered fences here and there Tossed their splinters in the air; The very trees were stripped and bare; The barns that once held yellow grain Were heaped with harvests of the slain...
Seite 115 - Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Looked at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Seite 111 - Just where the tide of battle turns, Erect and lonely, stood old John Burns. How do you think the man was dressed? He wore an ancient, long buff vest, Yellow as saffron,— but his best; And buttoned over his manly breast Was a bright blue coat with a rolling collar, And large gilt buttons, — size of a dollar, — With tails that the country-folk called "swaller.
Seite 110 - The milk that fell like a babbling flood Into the milk-pail red as blood ! Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets buzzing among the trees. But all such fanciful thoughts as these Were strange to a practical man...
Seite 112 - Until, as they gazed, there crept an awe Through the ranks in whispers, and some men saw In the antique vestments and long white hair, The Past of the Nation in battle there; And some of the soldiers since declare That the gleam of his old white hat afar, Like the crested plume of the brave Navarre, That day was their oriflamme of war.
Seite 111 - Spake in the old man's strong right hand ; And his corded throat, and the lurking frown Of his eyebrows under his old bell-crown ; Until, as they gazed, there crept an awe Through the ranks in whispers, and some men saw, In the antique vestments and long white hair, The Past of the Nation in battle there...
Seite 111 - He wore an ancient long buff vest, Yellow as saffron, — but his best ; And, buttoned over his manly breast, Was a bright blue coat, with a rolling collar, And large gilt buttons, — size of a dollar, — With tails that the country-folk called "swaller.
Seite 110 - Looking down the village street, Where, in the shade of his peaceful vine, He heard the low of his gathered kine, And felt their breath with incense sweet. Or I might say when the sunset burned The old farm gable, he thought it turned The milk...
Seite 111 - Guard mustered in — Glanced as they passed at the hat he wore, Then at the rifle his right hand bore, And hailed him from out their youthful lore, With scraps of a slangy repertoire: "How are you, White Hat?" "Put her through!" "Your head's level !" and, "Bully for you !" Called him "Daddy

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