. Literature, art and song: Moore's melodies and American poems; . Thou hast calld me thy Angel in moments of bliss,And thy Angel Ill be, mid the horrors of this,—Thro the furnace, unshrinking, thy steps to pursue,And shield thee, and save thee,—or perish there too g0xpi mt tht gxM. W 11^^ 1^ £(iX(itt not the field where they perishd, The truest, the last of the brave,All gone—and the bright hope we cherishd Gone with them, and quenchd in their grave Oh! could we from death but recover^Pl Those hearts as they bounded before,In the face of high heavn to fight overThat combat for freedom once mo

---

. Literature, art and song: Moore's melodies and American poems; . Thou hast calld me thy Angel in moments of bliss,And thy Angel Ill be, mid the horrors of this,—Thro the furnace, unshrinking, thy steps to pursue,And shield thee, and save thee,—or perish there too g0xpi mt tht gxM. W 11^^ 1^ £(iX(itt not the field where they perishd, The truest, the last of the brave,All gone—and the bright hope we cherishd Gone with them, and quenchd in their grave Oh! could we from death but recover^Pl Those hearts as they bounded before,In the face of high heavn to fight overThat combat for freedom once more;— Could the chain for an instant be rivenWhich tyranny flung round us then, No, tis not in Man, nor in Heaven,To let Tyranny bind it again!

---

Size: 3020px × 827px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookauthormackenzi, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1872