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قراءة كتاب Soldier Songs and Love Songs
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 4
whistle.
Roll in waves of living blue,
Pierce the columned centre through,
Fill the world with wonder;
Rush, as with a lion's will,
Where his lightnings flash to kill
And his cannon thunder.
Pierce the columned centre through,
Fill the world with wonder;
Rush, as with a lion's will,
Where his lightnings flash to kill
And his cannon thunder.
Meet him with a tiger's spring,
Quicker than an eagle's wing,
Where the bayonet piercest.
When you feel the foeman's breath,
Soldier, strike for life or death,
Where the fight is fiercest.
Quicker than an eagle's wing,
Where the bayonet piercest.
When you feel the foeman's breath,
Soldier, strike for life or death,
Where the fight is fiercest.
Than a coward, proved and known,
Better be to atoms blown,
Where the doomed are dying.
Welcome death in wildest way,
But to mingle with that clay
Where the brave are lying.
Better be to atoms blown,
Where the doomed are dying.
Welcome death in wildest way,
But to mingle with that clay
Where the brave are lying.
Thus will Honor be our meed
For some doubly daring deed
When we end our story.
Then in graves with roses blown,
By the hands of patriots strown,
We will sleep in glory.
For some doubly daring deed
When we end our story.
Then in graves with roses blown,
By the hands of patriots strown,
We will sleep in glory.
THE DYING SOLDIER TO THE NIGHTINGALE.
I plead with tears to thee,
Sweet warbler of the shade,
Breathe not such strains to me,
The sweetest ever made.
Who bade thee slight my woes?
Who taught to pierce my heart?
Leave me to death's repose,
Depart, sweet bird, depart.
Sweet warbler of the shade,
Breathe not such strains to me,
The sweetest ever made.
Who bade thee slight my woes?
Who taught to pierce my heart?
Leave me to death's repose,
Depart, sweet bird, depart.
Still come, with every strain,
Warm dreams of woeless days;
Still beam, on life's past plain,
Love's long lost golden rays,
That gleam on forms gone by,
On friends I called my own,
Who calmly rest, while I,
Wild wandering, weep alone.
Warm dreams of woeless days;
Still beam, on life's past plain,
Love's long lost golden rays,
That gleam on forms gone by,
On friends I called my own,
Who calmly rest, while I,
Wild wandering, weep alone.
But if thou still must sing,
Sing of my endless woes,
Of Life, a poisoned spring,
Of Love, a scattered rose;
Wail-warble those who weep,
Wild-warble but the brave;
To the wearied, sing of sleep,
And sing, to me, the grave.
Sing of my endless woes,
Of Life, a poisoned spring,
Of Love, a scattered rose;
Wail-warble those who weep,
Wild-warble but the brave;
To the wearied, sing of sleep,
And sing, to me, the grave.
BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE.
Inscribed to Dennis F. Burke, last Commander of the Irish Brigade, at Gettysburg.
THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH.
"Why come ye to this mountain, lads,
In panoply of war?
Why leave ye the hills of your native heath,
To seek these heights afar?"
In panoply of war?
Why leave ye the hills of your native heath,
To seek these heights afar?"
BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE.
"We have come to unchain the slave,
And not for a dress parade;
We have come to save man's flesh from the lash,"
Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.
"We have heard his low cry afar,
We have felt the self-same chain,
And we've come, my friends, through peace or war,
To make the land of the Union Star
The land without a stain."
And not for a dress parade;
We have come to save man's flesh from the lash,"
Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.
"We have heard his low cry afar,
We have felt the self-same chain,
And we've come, my friends, through peace or war,
To make the land of the Union Star
The land without a stain."
THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH.
"Go home to your native soil,
Ye sons of the Celtic brave;
You will have to fight till the last man falls
To free the Southern slave."
Ye sons of the Celtic brave;
You will have to fight till the last man falls
To free the Southern slave."
"We have come to this fight to-day
With no maiden, bloodless blade;
We have come to fight till the last man falls,"
Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.
"We have felt of an iron heel,
We have known a tyrant's hand,
We have come to fight till the Rebels reel
From the shotted shell of our cannon peal,
And the hero-handled brand."
With no maiden, bloodless blade;
We have come to fight till the last man falls,"
Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.
"We have felt of an iron heel,
We have known a tyrant's hand,
We have come to fight till the Rebels reel
From the shotted shell of our cannon peal,
And the hero-handled brand."
THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH.
"Then come to the battle charge!
Welcome the Celtic yell!
'Twixt you and the South, at the cannon's mouth,
'Tis Gettysburg or Hell!"
Welcome the Celtic yell!
'Twixt you and the South, at the cannon's mouth,
'Tis Gettysburg or Hell!"
BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE.
"Then 'tis Gettysburg Heights or Hell!
We are here till the game is played;
And a Hell he will feel who dares our steel,"
Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.
So they fought, and the story runs
(All thanks to the Heavenly Powers),
That the field was won by the Celtic sons;
For Hell flashed Leeward from out their guns,
And Gettysburg is ours!
We are here till the game is played;
And a Hell he will feel who dares our steel,"
Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.
So they fought, and the story runs
(All thanks to the Heavenly Powers),
That the field was won by the Celtic sons;
For Hell flashed Leeward from out their guns,
And Gettysburg is ours!
TEARS, TEARS.
Tears, tears,
With wifely fears
Immixed—I held my breath,
My boy!
As down the street
The drums did beat
That led you to your death,
My boy!
With wifely fears
Immixed—I held my breath,
My boy!
As down the street
The drums did beat
That led you to your death,
My boy!
Oh! Oh!
Where'er I go,
And soldier boys I see,
My jo!
I wis', I wis',
For him whose kiss
Was blessedness to me,
My jo!
Where'er I go,
And soldier boys I see,
My jo!
I wis', I wis',
For him whose kiss
Was blessedness to me,
My jo!
Still, still,
By wish and will,
The land you saved, I love,
My boy!
Beneath a stone,
It holds your bone,
I'll clasp your soul above,
My boy!
By wish and will,
The land you saved, I love,
My boy!
Beneath a stone,
It holds your bone,
I'll clasp your soul above,
My boy!
SHERRY IN THE SADDLE.
Sherry's not in saddle,
Sherry's not in saddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Boys in blue skedaddle,
Boys in blue skedaddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Sherry's not in saddle,
Sherry's not in saddle,
The Southron gray
Is King to-day,
For Sherry's not in saddle.
Sherry's not in saddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Boys in blue skedaddle,
Boys in blue skedaddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Sherry's not in saddle,
Sherry's not in saddle,
The Southron gray
Is King to-day,
For Sherry's not in saddle.
Sherry's in the saddle,
Sherry's in the saddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Boys in gray skedaddle,
Boys in gray skedaddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Sherry's in the saddle,
Sherry's in the saddle,
The Southron gray
Bites grass to-day,
For Sherry's in the saddle,
Sherry's in the saddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Boys in gray skedaddle,
Boys in gray skedaddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Sherry's in the saddle,
Sherry's in the saddle,
The Southron gray
Bites grass to-day,
For Sherry's in the saddle,
Sherry in the saddle,
Sherry in the saddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Union foes skedaddle,
Union foes skedaddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Sherry in the saddle,
Sherry in the saddle,
By night or day,
'Twixt Blue and Gray,
There's hell to pay,
When Sherry's in the saddle.
Sherry in the saddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Union foes skedaddle,
Union foes skedaddle,
Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!
Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!
Sherry in the saddle,
Sherry in the saddle,
By night or day,
'Twixt Blue and Gray,
There's hell to pay,
When Sherry's in the saddle.
HOME! HOME!
Home! Home!
Man may roam
While the blood of life is brimming,
While the head's with glory swimming;
But, when Love and Life are over,
Bring him to the village clover,
Home! Home!
Man may roam
While the blood of life is brimming,
While the head's with glory swimming;
But, when Love and Life are over,
Bring him to the village clover,
Home! Home!
Home! Home!
Bring him home,
Where the songs of sad hearts shrive him,
Where remorse no more shall rive him,
Where the ever weeping willow
Moults to make its leaves his pillow,
Home! Home!
Bring him home,
Where the songs of sad hearts shrive him,
Where remorse no more shall rive him,
Where the ever weeping willow
Moults to make its leaves his pillow,
Home! Home!
Home! Home!
He is home,
Where his song was ever sounding,
Where his blood was ever bounding,
Here, at last, he leaves his madness,
All his love and all his sadness,
Home! Home!
He is home,
Where his song was ever sounding,
Where his blood was ever bounding,
Here, at last, he leaves his madness,
All his love and all his sadness,
Home! Home!
THE CUSTER WAIL.
Dead! Where the bold and brave
Blend in one bloody grave;
Dead! With no coward clay
Weltering in gore that day.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Blend in one bloody grave;
Dead! With no coward clay
Weltering in gore that day.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! With his boys in blue,
Baptized in bloody dew.
Dead! Where his enemy
Fled from his fearless eye.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Baptized in bloody dew.
Dead! Where his enemy
Fled from his fearless eye.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Like a meteor,
Flashed o'er the field of war.
Dead! With immortal pride,
Glorious and glorified.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Flashed o'er the field of war.
Dead! With immortal pride,
Glorious and glorified.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Where the captives sing
Saved by his rifle's ring.
Dead! Where the painted brave
Bled by his gory glaive.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Saved by his rifle's ring.
Dead! Where the painted brave
Bled by his gory glaive.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Where the feathered game
Fell at his deadly aim.
Dead! Where the buffalo
Found him a gallant foe.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Fell at his deadly aim.
Dead! Where the buffalo
Found him a gallant foe.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Where the prairie steed
Vainly exerts his speed.
Dead! Where the antlered stag
Dies on the dizzy crag.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Vainly exerts his speed.
Dead! Where the antlered stag
Dies on the dizzy crag.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Where the valleys sink
Low to the river's brink.
Dead! Where the mountains spring
Higher than eagle's wing.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Low to the river's brink.
Dead! Where the mountains spring
Higher than eagle's wing.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Where the solar glows
Eastward and upward rose.
Dead! Where the evening's gold
Westward and downward rolled.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Eastward and upward rose.
Dead! Where the evening's gold
Westward and downward rolled.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Where the streamy vales
Murmur their tender tales.
Dead! Where the ocean's roll
Sobs for the passing soul.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Murmur their tender tales.
Dead! Where the ocean's roll
Sobs for the passing soul.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Where the thicket's throats
Mingle their million notes.
Dead! Where the forests dim
Tone their lone requiem.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Mingle their million notes.
Dead! Where the forests dim
Tone their lone requiem.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Where the eagle's scream
Shortens the hunter's dream.
Dead! Where the nightingale
Trills out her lonely tale.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Shortens the hunter's dream.
Dead! Where the nightingale
Trills out her lonely tale.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Where no maiden fair
Weaves with his waving hair.
Dead! Where no darling sips
Life from his loving lips.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Weaves with his waving hair.
Dead! Where no darling sips
Life from his loving lips.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Where no woman's breast,
Robbed of her love and rest,
Flower with a fading leaf,
Sinks in her silent grief.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Robbed of her love and rest,
Flower with a fading leaf,
Sinks in her silent grief.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to me.
Dead! Nevermore to be.
Dead! Nevermore to be.
Dead! Evermore to me.
Dead! Evermore to me.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to ME!
Dead! Nevermore to be.
Dead! Evermore to me.
Dead! Evermore to me.
Dead! Dead! Ah!—Dead to ME!
WEEP NOT FOR HIM.
Weep not for him who, in the battle dying,
Lives in the lays of those he sought to save;
Weep not for him who on the cold turf lying,
Finds in his native land a patriot's grave;
Weep not for him for whom the night wind, sighing,
Spreads o'er his bier the banner of the brave;
But, o'er the ashes of the dead hussar,
Shout to the thunder and the trump of war.
Lives in the lays of those he sought to save;
Weep not for him who on the cold turf lying,
Finds in his native land a patriot's grave;
Weep not for him for whom the night wind, sighing,
Spreads o'er his bier the banner of the brave;
But, o'er the ashes of the dead hussar,
Shout to the thunder and the trump of war.
Go weep for her who, by her Love's side sighing,
Gives to the grave the form she loved so well;
And weep for her who meets no soft replying
To the sweet story she would die to tell;
Aye, weep for her whose Love, to Lethe flying,
Left on her lip no mark of his farewell;
Oh, weep for her whose star of life is dim;
Weep, weep for her; but weep no more for him.
Gives to the grave the form she loved so well;
And weep for her who meets no soft replying
To the sweet story she would die to tell;
Aye, weep for her whose Love, to Lethe flying,
Left on her lip no mark of his farewell;
Oh, weep for her whose star of life is dim;
Weep, weep for her; but weep no more for him.
TARRY YE NOT IN EGYPT.
The Lord is wroth with Pharaoh's men,
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
He hath raised His strong arm to smite furrow and fen,
And he'll smite them and smite them again and again.
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
The Lord is wroth with Pharaoh's men,
He hath raised His strong arm to smite furrow and fen,
And he'll smite them and smite them again and again,
So tarry no longer in Egypt.
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
He hath raised His strong arm to smite furrow and fen,
And he'll smite them and smite them again and again.
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
The Lord is wroth with Pharaoh's men,
He hath raised His strong arm to smite furrow and fen,
And he'll smite them and smite them again and again,
So tarry no longer in Egypt.
The Lord hath set His sign in the sky,
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
And all the first-born in the land shall die,
The fathers shall perish, the mothers shall sigh.
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
The Lord hath set His sign in the sky,
And all the first-born in the land shall die;
The fathers shall perish, the mothers shall sigh,
So tarry no longer in Egypt!
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
And all the first-born in the land shall die,
The fathers shall perish, the mothers shall sigh.
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not,
Tarry ye not in Egypt!
The Lord hath set His sign in the sky,
And all the first-born in the land shall die;
The fathers shall perish, the mothers shall sigh,
So tarry no longer in Egypt!