The Soldier's Friend: Being a Thrilling Narrative of Grandma Smith's Four Years' Experience and Observations, as Matron, in the Hospitals of the South, During the Late Disastrous Conflict in America

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Bulletin Publishing Company, 1867 - Hospitals - 300 pages
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Page 213 - By the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled, Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver, Asleep are the ranks of the dead: — Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day, Under the one, the Blue, Under the other, the Gray. These in the robings of glory, Those in the gloom of defeat, All with the battle-blood gory, In the dusk of eternity meet: — Under the...
Page 214 - The cooling drip of the rain; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Wet with the rain the Blue; Wet with the rain the Gray. Sadly, but not with upbraiding, The generous deed was done; In the storm of the years that are fading No braver battle was won; Under...
Page 209 - I've been wand'ring away — To see thus around me my youth's early friends, As smiling and kind as in that happy day ? Though haply o'er some of your brows, as o'er mine, The snow-fall of time may be stealing — what then ? Like Alps in the sunset, thus lighted by wine...
Page 214 - From the silence of sorrowful hours The desolate mourners go, Lovingly laden with flowers, Alike for the friend and the foe: — Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the Judgment Day: — Under the roses, the Blue; Under the lilies, the Gray.
Page 214 - Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the laurel, the Blue; Under the willow, the Gray. From the silence of sorrowful hours The desolate mourners go, Lovingly laden with flowers Alike for the friend and the foe; Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Under the roses, the Blue; Under the lilies, the Gray.
Page 214 - On the blossoms blooming for all: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Broidered with gold, the Blue, Mellowed with gold, the Gray. So, when the summer calleth, On forest and field of grain, With an equal murmur falleth The cooling drip of the rain: Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the judgment day; Wet with the rain, the Blue, Wet with the rain, the Gray. Sadly, but not with upbraiding, The generous deed was done, In the storm of...
Page 116 - The heart, like a tendril, accustom'd to cling, Let it grow where it will, cannot flourish alone, But will lean to the nearest and loveliest thing It can twine with itself, and make closely its own.

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