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" The past rises before me like a dream. Again we are in the great struggle for national life. We hear the sounds of preparation — the music of boisterous drums — the silver voices of heroic bugles. We see thousands of assemblages, and hear the appeals... "
Portrait and Biographical Album of Benton County, Iowa: Containing ... - Page 399
1887 - 424 pages
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How to Develop Power and Personality in Speaking

Grenville Kleiser - Culture - 1909 - 456 pages
...characters, and plays to be presented there! Begin your practise with a simple picture like the following: 1. The past rises before me like a dream. Again we are...struggle for national life. We hear the sounds of preparation—the music of boisterous drums—the silver voices of heroic bugles. We see thousands...
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Natural Drills in Expression, with Selections: A Series of Exercises ...

Arthur Edward Phillips - Elocution - 1909 - 394 pages
...sounds of preparation — the music of the boisterous drums — the silver voices of heroic bugles. We hear the appeals of orators ; we see the pale cheeks of women, and the flushed faces of men; we see all the dead whose dust we have covered with flowers. We lose sight of them no more. We are...
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War--what For?

George Ross Kirkpatrick - Peace - 1910 - 398 pages
...war." (D) INGERSOLL'S VISION OF WAR:* "The past rises before me like a dream. . . . We hear the sound of preparation, the music of boisterous drums —...thousands of assemblages, and hear the appeals of prators. We see the pale cheeks of women, and the flushed faces of men, and in those assemblages we...
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Ancient, Curious and Famous Wills

Virgil McClure Harris - Wills - 1912 - 496 pages
...regarded as the most touching example of imagery and vision to be found in English literature : • "The past rises before me like a dream. Again we are...the great struggle for national life. We hear the sound of preparation — the music of the boisterous drums, the silver voices of heroic bugles. We...
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A Treasure Chest of Memories

Joe Mitchell Chapple - American literature - 1911 - 936 pages
...pursuing. Learn to labor and to wait. Henry W. Longfellow. A MEMORIAL DAY VISION The past, as it were, rises before me like a dream. Again we are in the great struggle for national life. We hear the sound of preparation — the music of the boisterous drums, the silver voices of the heroic bugles....
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Memorial Day (Decoration Day) Its Celebration, Spirit, and ..., Volume 6

Robert Haven Schauffler - American literature - 1911 - 364 pages
...sounds of preparation — the music of the boisterous drums — the silver voices of heroic bugles. We hear the appeals of orators ; we see the pale cheeks of women, and the flushed faces of men ; we see all the dead whose dust we have covered with flowers. We lose sight of them no more. We are...
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Ancient, Curious and Famous Wills

Virgil McClure Harris - Wills - 1911 - 496 pages
...of imagery and vision to be found in English literature : "The past rises before me like a di'eam. Again we are in the great struggle for national life. We hear the sound of preparation — the music of the boisterous drums, the silver voices of heroic bugles. We...
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The Days and Deeds: Reader and Speaker

Readers - 1912 - 462 pages
...sounds of preparation — the music of the boisterous drums — the silver voices of heroic bugles. We hear the appeals of orators; we see the pale cheeks of women, and the flushed faces of men; we see all the dead whose dust we have covered with flowers. We lose sight of them no more. We are...
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La Follette's Autobiography: A Personal Narrative of Political Experiences

Robert Marion La Follette - Governors - 1913 - 870 pages
...me. Oblivious of my surroundings, I read it with tears streaming down my face. It began, I remember: "The past rises before me like a dream. Again we are...drums — the silver voices of heroic bugles. We see the pale cheeks of women and the flushed faces of men; and in those assemblages we see all the dead...
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Autobiography; a Personal Narrative of Political Experiences

Robert Marion La Follette - Presidents - 1913 - 876 pages
...me. Oblivious of my surroundings, I read it with tears streaming down my face. It began, I remember: "The past rises before me like a dream. Again we are...drums — the silver voices of heroic bugles. We see the pale cheeks of women and the flushed faces of men; and in those assemblages we see all the dead...
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