Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for Nemesis or search for Nemesis in all documents.

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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 43 (search)
er's lips distilled, The startled nation woke — awoke to hear Rebellion's demons in her citadel, By dark and perjured sentinels invoked-- Singing her dirge, like the volcanic bass Of Aetna's organ chiming with the sea When groans the Titan in immortal pangs-- The trepidation of conflicting hosts, Mixed with the wild alarm of clamorous bells, The strife — the shout — the wailing of despair. Time, by whose hands the mouldering dust of death Is shovelled in the vaults of coffined realms, What Nemesis insatiate still inspires The suicide of Empires? In her breast, Greece nursed the serpent faction with her blood, That stung her to the heart. Rebellion's steel Pierced the fair bosom of imperial Rome By foreign foes unconquered; and the land Of God's own people drank the fatal cup Which dark dissension pressed upon her lips. As midnight's bell proclaims with double tongue One year departed and another born, Swift throng around me with imperial mien And god-like brow, and eyes of sad rep<
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 146 (search)
s of the Cumberland echoes the roar Of the sentinel's warning — the foe's on the shore! Our war-drums are beaten, our bugles are blown, And our legions advance to their musical tone. By the banks of the Cumberland, slippery and red, With the death-dew of battle, and strewn with the dead, Kentucky has routed her insolent foe, And victory's star gilds the night of our woe. By those banks, that once bloomed like an Eden of joy, The demon of treason stalked forth to destroy. Our rich teeming harvests he swept in his wrath, And the blaze of our dwellings illumined his path. Like an eagle-plumed arrow our Nemesis comes. Shout, soldiers! sound bugles! and clamor, O drums! Let the land ring aloud in the wildness of joy, And the bonfires blaze brightly-but not to destroy. For the God of the Union has prospered the right, And the cohorts of treason have melted in flight. Blow, bugles! roll, river! and tell to the sea That our swords shall not rest till Kentucky is free. Louisville Journal