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Strona 76 - 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.
Strona 408 - And shook it forth with a royal will. "Shoot, if you must, this old gray head. 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!
Strona 75 - 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.
Strona 280 - UP from the South at break of day, Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, The affrighted air with a shudder bore, Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar, Telling the battle was on once more, And Sheridan twenty miles away.
Strona 281 - But there is a road from Winchester town, A good broad highway leading down ; And there, through the flush of the morning light, A steed as black as the steeds of night, Was seen to pass, as with eagle flight...
Strona 341 - O Captain ! my Captain ! rise up and hear the bells ; Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and...
Strona 407 - Over the mountains, winding down, Horse and foot into Frederick town. Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind : the sun Of noon looked down, and saw not one.
Strona 113 - THE word of the Lord by night To the watching Pilgrims came, As they sat by the seaside, And filled their hearts with flame. God said, I am tired of kings, I suffer them no more ; Up to my ear the morning brings The outrage of the poor.
Strona 292 - Stonewall Jackson's way." The sun's bright lances rout the mists Of morning, and by George! Here's Longstreet struggling in the lists, Hemmed in an ugly gorge. Pope and his Yankees, whipped before, " Bay'nets and grape !" hear Stonewall roar; " Charge, Stuart! Pay off Ashby's score! " Is " Stonewall Jackson's way." Ah ! maiden, wait and watch and yearn For news of Stonewall's band ! Ah! widow, read with eyes that burn That ring upon thy hand. Ah ! wife, sew on, pray on, hope on ! Thy life shall...