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" Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling... "
Favorite Poems: Selected from English and American Authors - 35. oldal
szerző: Joseph H. Head - 1884 - 456 oldal
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

Accepted Addresses; Or, Proemium Poetarum: To which are Added, Macbeth ...

1813 - 410 oldal
...the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero was buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The...sods with our bayonets turning,— By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in...

The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, 1. kötet

H. Biglow, Orville Luther Holley - 1817 - 502 oldal
...Spain, in 1808. Not a dram was heard, nor a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried, Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot. O'er the grave,...buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with ourbayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless...

The Edinburgh Monthly Magazine, 1. kötet

1817 - 694 oldal
...buried him darkly at dead of night, The eads with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moon-benm's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless...enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we bound him, But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. Few and short...

The American Monthly Magazine and Critical Review, 1. kötet

H. Biglow, Orville Luther Holley - 1817 - 492 oldal
...to the rampart we hurried, Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot, O'er the grave, where ourhero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night....sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Kol in...

Spirit of the English Magazines, 2. kötet

1818 - 506 oldal
...rampart we hurried : Not a toldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero wan fc./' M We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning, . By the struggling moonoeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin encUxted his breast i Nor...

Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, 1. kötet

1817 - 708 oldal
...preservation in a fafer repository ; and we have accordingly inserted it among our original pieces. ED. 2 N We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moon-beam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor...

The Annual Register, Or, A View of the History, Politics, and Literature for ...

1818 - 798 oldal
...buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our tmxonets turning, By the struggling moon-beam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless...enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we bound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest. With his martial cloak around him. Few and short...

Tickler, Or, Monthly Compendium of Good Things, in Prose and ..., 1-3. kötet

1818 - 596 oldal
...heard, not a funeral note, As his corps-? to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharg'd liis farewell shot, O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly, at dead of night, The sod with our bayonets turning, By tlie struggling moon-beams' misty light, And the lantern dimly burning....

Annual Register, 59. kötet

Edmund Burke - 1818 - 1264 oldal
...the rampart we hurried, Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero was buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moon-beam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. Nooiseless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor...

The Kaleidoscope: or, Literary and scientific mirror, 5. kötet

1825 - 458 oldal
...raoipart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot ' O'er the grave where our hero we burial We buried him darkly at dead of night. The sods with our bayonets turning, — By the straggling moonbeam's misty llfht. And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed bis breast....




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