Poems of American History - Unknown

Cæsar, afloat with his fortunes, [462].
Call Martha Corey, [92].
Calm as that second summer which precedes, [507].
Calm martyr of a noble cause, [545].
Calmly beside her tropic strand, [515].
Came the morning of that day, [404].
Chained by stern duty to the rock of state, [537].
Champion of those who groan beneath, [385].
Cheer up, my young men all, [122].
"Chuff! chuff! chuff!" An' a mountain-bluff, [652].
Close his eyes; his work is done, [442].
Cold, cold is the north wind and rude is the blast, [109].
Columbia, appear!—To thy mountains ascend, [305].
Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise, [180].
Columbus looked; and still around them spread, [273].
Come, all ye bold Americans, to you the truth I tell, [257].
Come all ye lads who know no fear, [226].
Come all ye sons of Brittany, [112].
Come all ye Yankee sailors, with swords and pikes advance, [280].
Come all you brave Americans, [237].
Come all you brave soldiers, both valiant and free, [179].
Come, all you sons of Liberty, that to the seas belong, [296].
Come, brothers! rally for the right, [413].
Come, cheer up, my lads, like a true British band, [130].
Come, come fill up your glasses, [132].
Come, each death-doing dog who dares venture his neck, [121].
Come, fill the beaker, while we chaunt a pean of old days, [119].
Come, Freemen of the land, [509].
Come, gentlemen Tories, firm, loyal, and true, [229].
Come let us rejoice, [245].
Come, listen all unto my song, [565].
Come listen and I'll tell you, [221].
Come listen, good neighbors of every degree, [131].
Come listen to the Story of brave Lathrop and his Men, [82].
Come muster, my lads, your mechanical tools, [270].
Come, rouse up, ye bold-hearted Whigs of Kentucky, [353].
Come sheathe your swords! my gallant boys, [239].
Come, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails, [483].
Come swallow your bumpers, ye Tories, and roar, [143].
Come unto me, ye heroes, [202].
Come, ye lads, who wish to shine, [287].
Comes a cry from Cuban water, [609].
Compassionate eyes had our brave John Brown, [397].
Concentred here th' united wisdom shines, [269].
Content within his wigwam warm, [73].
Cornwallis led a country dance, [256].
"Cut the cables!" the order read, [622].

Dark as the clouds of even, [500].
Dawn of a pleasant morning in May, [518].
Dawn peered through the pines as we dashed at the ford, [488].
Day of glory! Welcome day, [179].
Daybreak upon the hills, [547].
Dead! Is it possible? He, the bold rider, [582].
Death, why so cruel? What! no other way, [45].
Delusions of the days that once have been, [88].
Did you hear of the fight at Corinth, [458].
Do you know how the people of all the land, [49].
Do you know of the dreary land, [468].
Down in the bleak December bay, [59].
Down Loudon Lanes, with swinging reins, [482].
Down the Little Big Horn, [580].
Down toward the deep-blue water, [668].
Dreary and brown the night comes down, [10].

Ebbed and flowed the muddy Pei-Ho by the gulf of Pechili, [380].
Eight volunteers! on an errand of death, [626].
Eighty and nine with their captain, [438].
El Emplazado, the Summoned, the Doomed One, [613].
Ere five score years have run their tedious rounds, [125].
Ere Murfreesboro's thunders rent the air, [459].

Fair were our visions! Oh, they were as grand, [546].
Fallen? How fallen? States and empires fall, [376].
Fallen with autumn's fallen leaf, [590].
Famine once we had, [69].
Far spread, below, [3].
Farewell! for now a stormy morn and dark, [650].
Farewell, Peace! another crisis, [287].
Farragut, Farragut, [528].
Father and I went down to camp, [159].
First in the fight, and first in the arms, [454].
Five fearless knights of the first renown, [34].
Flawless his heart and tempered to the core, [128].
"Fly to the mountain! Fly," [601].
For him who sought his country's good, [280].
For sixty days and upwards, [499].
For us, the dead, though young, [674].
Foreboding sudden of untoward change, [599].
"Forgive them, for they know not what they do," [538].
Four-and-eighty years are o'er me; great-grandchildren sit before me, [211].
Four gallant ships from England came, [309].
Four times the sun has risen and set; and now on the fifth day, [115].
Four young men, of a Monday morn, [155].
France, [666].
Francisco Coronado rode forth with all his train, [31].
Free are the Muses, and where freedom is, [641].
Freedom called them—up they rose, [606].
Fresh palms for the Old Dominion, [395].
From a junto that labor for absolute power, [176].
From dawn to dark they stood, [441].
From dusk till dawn the livelong night, [191].
From France, desponding and betray'd, [312].
From Halifax station a bully there came, [289].
From keel to fighting top, I love, [618].
From Lewis, Monsieur Gérard came, [214].
From out my deep, wide-bosomed West, [587].
From out the North-land his leaguer he led, [199].
From Santiago, spurning the morrow, [635].
From the commandant's quarters on Westchester height, [231].
From the laurel's fairest bough, [307].
From the Rio Grande's waters to the icy lakes of Maine, [364].
From this hundred-terraced height, [573].
From Yorktown on the fourth of May, [436].
Furl that Banner, for 'tis weary, [547].

Gallants attend, and hear a friend, [208].
Gaunt in the midst of the prairie, [569].
Gentle and generous, brave-hearted, kind, [650].
Gift from the cold and silent Past, [4].
Giles Corey was a Wizard strong, [96].
"Give me but two brigades," said Hooker, frowning at fortified Lookout, [505].
Give me white paper, [18].
Glistering high in the midnight sky the starry rockets soar, [617].
Glorious the day when in arms at Assunpink, [189].
"Go, bring the captive, he shall die," [26].
God is shaping the great future of the Islands of the Sea, [641].
God makes a path, provides a guide, [72].
God send us peace, and keep red strife away, [447].
God wills no man a slave. The man most meek, [274].
Golden through the golden morning, [676].
Gone down in the flood, and gone out in the flame, [468].
Good Junipero, the Padre, [343].
Goody Bull and her daughter together fell out, [130].
Gray swept the angry waves, [466].
Great Sassacus fled from the eastern shores, [70].
Great soul, to all brave souls akin, [674].
Greece was; Greece is no more, [602].
Green be the turf above thee, [348].
Grown sick of war, and war's alarms, [261].
Guvener B. is a sensible man, [369].

Hail! Columbia, happy land, [277].
Hail, Freedom! thy bright crest, [596].
Hail, great Apollo! guide my feeble pen, [111].
Hail, happy Britain, Freedom's blest retreat, [144].
Hail sons of generous valor, [326].
Hail to Hobson! Hail to Hobson! hail to all the valiant set, [626].
Hail to thee, gallant foe, [638].
Hard aport! Now close to shore sail, [51].
Hark! do I hear again the roar, [18].
Hark! hark! down the century's long reaching slope, [592].
Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands, [442].
Hark! 'tis Freedom that calls, come, patriots, awake, [157].
Hark! 'tis the voice of the mountain, [254].
"Has the Marquis La Fayette," [240].
Have you heard the story that gossips tell, [493].
"He chases shadows," sneered the British tars, [19].
He took a thousand islands and he didn't lose a man, [620].
Hear through the morning drums and trumpets sounding, [325].
Heard ye how the bold McClellan, [434].
Heard ye that thrilling word, [439].
Hearken the stirring story, [27].
Here comes the Marshal, [76].
Here halt we our march, and pitch our tent, [157].
Here, in my rude log cabin, [323].
Here the oceans twain have waited, [651].
"Here we stan' on the Constitution, by thunder," [386].
Here's the spot. Look around you. Above on the height, [232].
Highlands of Hudson! ye saw them pass, [230].
His bark, [7].
His echoing axe the settler swung, [329].
"His policy," do you say, [559].
His soul to God! on a battle-psalm, [457].
His triumphs of a moment done, [260].
His work is done, his toil is o'er, [650].
"Ho, Rose!" quoth the stout Miles Standish, [58].
Ho, woodsmen of the mountain-side, [411].
Hobson went towards death and hell, [627].
"Home, home—where's my baby's home," [73].
Hooker's across! Hooker's across, [483].
How glows each patriot bosom that boasts a Yankee heart, [293].
How history repeats itself, [519].
How long, O sister, how long, [588].
How sad the note of that funereal drum, [347].
How spoke the King, in his crucial hour victorious, [676].
How stands the glass around, [121].
How sweetly on the wood-girt town, [105].
Huge and alert, irascible yet strong, [649].
Huzza for our liberty, boys, [286].
Huzza, my Jo Bunkers! no taxes we'll pay, [269].

I am a wandering, bitter shade, [146].
I gazed, and lo! Afar and near, [454].
I give my soldier boy a blade, [413].
I hear again the tread of war go thundering through the land, [456].
I heard the bells across the trees, [673].
I lay in my tent at mid-day, [440].
I lift these hands with iron fetters banded, [561].
I never have got the bearings quite, [378].
I often have been told, [288].
I pause not now to speak of Raleigh's dreams, [38].
I read last night of the Grand Review, [548].
I remember it well: 'twas a morn dull and gray, [248].
I saw her first abreast the Boston Light, [662].
Iberian! palter no more! By thine hands, [612].
Ice built, ice bound, and ice bounded, [567].
I'd weave a wreath for those who fought, [529].
If we dreamed that we loved Her aforetime, 'twas the ghost of a dream; for I vow, [657].
I'll tell you what I heard that day, [420].
Illustrious monarch of Iberia's soil, [9].
I'm a grandchild of the gods, [53].
In a chariot of light from the regions of day, [141].
In a stately hall at Brentford, when the English June was green, [43].
In a wood they call the Rouge Bouquet, [670].
In battle-line of sombre gray, [621].
In Cherbourg Roads the pirate lay, [525].
In Hampton Roads, the airs of March were bland, [463].
In Paco town and in Paco tower, [644].
In revel and carousing, [346].
In seventeen hundred and seventy-five, [171].
In spite of Rice, in spite of Wheat, [140].
In that desolate land and lone, [583].
In that soft mid-land where the breezes bear, [177].
In the gloomy ocean bed, [602].
In the stagnant pride of an outworn race, [633].
In the tides of the warm south wind it lay, [25].
In their ragged regimentals, [206].
Into the thick of the fight he went, pallid, and sick and wan, [631].
Into the town of Conemaugh, [599].
Is it naught? Is it naught, [607].
Is it the wind, the many-tongued, the weird, [496].
Is this the price of beauty! Fairest, thou, [594].
Isle of a summer sea, [608].
It cannot be that men who are the seed, [572].
It don't seem hardly right, John, [430].
It fell upon us like a crushing woe, [416].
It is done, [481].
It is I, America, calling, [668].
It is no idle fabulous tale, nor is it fayned newes, [40].
It is not the fear of death, [238].
It is portentous, and a thing of state, [661].
It was a noble Roman, [403].
It was Captain Pierce of the Lion who strode the streets of London, [68].
It was early Sunday morning, in the year of sixty-four, [526].
It was less than two thousand we numbered, [511].
It was on the seventeenth, by break of day, [167].
It was Private Blair, of the regulars, before dread El Caney, [631].
It was that fierce contested field when Chickamauga lay, [502].
It was the schooner Hesperus, [351].
It wound through strange scarred hills, down cañons lone, [346].

John Brown died on the scaffold for the slave, [397].
John Brown in Kansas settled, like a steadfast Yankee farmer, [393].
John Brown of Ossawatomie spake on his dying day, [396].
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave, [397].
John Bull, Esquire, my jo John, [432].
John Filson was a pedagogue, [331].
Joy in rebel Plymouth town, in the spring of sixty-four, [535].
July the twenty-second day, [242].
Just as the hour was darkest, [472].
Just as the spring came laughing through the strife, [482].
Just God! and these are they, [385].
Just in the gray of the dawn, as the mists uprose from the meadows, [63].

Kind Heaven, assist the trembling muse, [217].
King Hancock sat in regal state, [246].