The Story of the Fifty-fifth Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry in the Civil War, 1861-1865

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Page 130 - The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun, — the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between ; The venerable woods — rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man.
Page 130 - There is no death ! What seems so is transition : This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Page 239 - What arrested my attention then was, and what renews my memory of the fact now is, that one so young, carrying a musket-ball wound through his leg, should have found his way to me on that fatal spot, and delivered his message, not forgetting the very important part even of the calibre of his musket, 54, which you know is an unusual one.
Page 130 - The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages.
Page 239 - ' They shot me in the leg, sir, but I can go to the hospital. Send the cartridges right away.' Even where we stood, the shot fell thick, and I told him to go to the rear at once, I would attend to the cartridges, and off he limped. Just before he disappeared on the hill, he turned and called as loud as he could :
Page 240 - Man ever saw in such a fearful place. • Stifling his tears, he limped his chief to meet ; But when he paused, and tottering stood, Around the circle of his little feet There spread a pool of bright, young blood. Shocked at his doleful case, Sherman cried, " Halt ! front face ! Who are you ? Speak, my gallant boy ! " " A drummer, Sir : — Fifty-Fifth Illinois." " Are you not hit ? " " That 's nothing. Only send Some cartridges : our men are out ; And the foe press us.
Page 293 - FROM every stormy wind that blows, From every swelling tide of woes, There is a calm, a sure retreat : "Tis found beneath the mercy-seat.
Page 240 - I'll see to that," cried Sherman; and a drop Angels might envy dimmed his eye, As the boy, toiling toward the hill's hard top, Turned round, and with his shrill child's cry Shouted, " Oh, don't forget! We'll win the battle yet! But let our soldiers have some more, More cartridges, sir; calibre fifty-four.
Page 72 - every effort should be made to turn the left flank of the enemy, so as to cut off his line of retreat to the Tennessee River and throw him back on Owl Creek, where he will be obliged to surrender.
Page 145 - Halleck an order by telegraph ' to send a force the next day to drive the Rebels from the house in our front on the Corinth road, to drive in their pickets as far as possible, and to make a strong demonstration on Corinth itself...

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