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And he smote them hip and thigh with a great slaughter: and he
went down and dwelt in the read more
And he smote them hip and thigh with a great slaughter: and he
went down and dwelt in the top of the rock Etam.
Our God and soldier we alike adore - Just at the brink of ruin not before - The danger past, read more
Our God and soldier we alike adore - Just at the brink of ruin not before - The danger past, both are alike requited; God is forgotten and the soldier slighted
A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of read more
A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears; But a comrade stood beside him, while his lifeblood ebbed away
"Why me?" That is the soldier's first question, asked each morning as the patrols go out and each evening as read more
"Why me?" That is the soldier's first question, asked each morning as the patrols go out and each evening as the night settles around the foxholes.
Howbeit he refused to turn aside: wherefore Abner with the
hinder end of the spear smote him under the read more
Howbeit he refused to turn aside: wherefore Abner with the
hinder end of the spear smote him under the fifth rib, that the
spear came out behind him; and he fell down there, and died in
the same place: and it came to pass, that as many as came to the
place when Asahel fell down and died stood still.
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes blest!
. . . read more
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes blest!
. . . .
By fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unseen their dirge is sung.
Back of the boy is Wilson,
Pledge of his high degree,
Back of the boy is Lincoln,
read more
Back of the boy is Wilson,
Pledge of his high degree,
Back of the boy is Lincoln,
Lincoln and Grant and Lee;
Back of the boy is Jackson,
Jackson and Tippecanoe,
Back of each son is Washington,
And the old red, white and blue!
O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate,
And not the wonders of thy youth relate;
How read more
O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate,
And not the wonders of thy youth relate;
How can I see the gay, the brave, the young,
Fall in the cloud of war, and lie unsung!
In joys of conquest he resigns his breath,
And, filled with England's glory, smiles in death.
When the action was over and they were returning with joy, they
recognized Nicanor, lying dead, in full armor.
When the action was over and they were returning with joy, they
recognized Nicanor, lying dead, in full armor.