The bugle-call to arms again sounded in my war-trained ear, the bayonets gleamed, the sabres clashed, and the Prussian helmets and... the eagles of France stood face to face on the borders of the Rhine.... I remembered our own armies, my own war-stricken country and its dead, its widows and orphans, and it nerved me to action for which the physical strength had long ceased to exist, and on the borrowed force of love and memory, I strove with might and main.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The little toy dog is covered with dust, But sturdy and stanch he stands;... And the little toy soldier is red with rust, And the musket moulds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new, And the soldier was passing fair; And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
And they wonder, as waiting the long years through In the dust of that little chair,... What has become of our Little Boy Blue, Since he kissed them and put them there.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
No more shall the war cry sever, Or the winding rivers be red:... They banish our anger forever When they laurel the graves of our dead! Under the sod and the dew, Waiting the Judgment Day:-- Love and tears for the Blue; Tears and love for the Gray.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Why make so much of fragmentary blue In here and there a bird, or butterfly,... Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye, When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The blue we bathe in is the blue we breathe. The blue we breathe, I fear, is what we want from life and only find in fiction. For ...the voyeur, fiction is what's called going all the way.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
O suns and skies and clouds of June, And flowers of June together,... Ye cannot rival for one hour October's bright blue weather.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »