Songs and Ballads of the Southern People Part 27

All bright are the stars that are beaming upon us, And bold are the bars that are gleaming above us; The one shall increase in their number and light, The other grow bolder in power and might; For this flag of my country in triumph shall wave O'er the Southerner's home or the Southerner's grave.

Those bars of bright red show our firm resolution To die, if need be, s.h.i.+elding thee from pollution; For man in this hour must give all he holds dear, And woman her prayers and her words of high cheer, If they wish this fair banner in triumph to wave O'er the Southerner's home and the Southerner's grave.

To the great G.o.d of battles we look with reliance; On our fierce Northern foe with contempt and defiance; For the South shall smile on in her fragrance and bloom When the North is fast sinking in silence and gloom; For the flag of our country in triumph must wave O'er the Southerner's home or the Southerner's grave.

NEW ORLEANS, LA.

THE SOUTH.

BY CHARLIE WILDWOOD.

The bright rose of beauty, unnurtured by art, And purity's lily doth thrive in thy heart, While honor hath crowned thee with glory's bright ray, And Flora hath decked thee with flowers of May.

Oh, beautiful South! cherished home of my birth, Thou fairest, thou loveliest land of the earth!

My heart, like the ivy, still clings unto thee, Oh, beautiful, beautiful land of the free!

_Chorus_--The South! the South! my own beautiful South!

Land of chivalry! home of liberty!

Fondly I love thee, dear land of the South!

Dear land of the South! dear land of the South!

Dear liberty, virtue, and truth, most sublime, The flowers that bloom in that sun-smiling clime, And these the base tyrant would crush to the earth, And mangle and bruise on the soil of their birth.

All crimson thy land, with the life-glowing flood, And dabble his hands in thy heart's reeking blood!

But oh! by the G.o.d of the righteous and free, Bright region! it never! no, never! shall be.

Like swarms of foul demons, his minions come down, And their war-rusted weapons insultingly frown, To fright thy fair fields with their b.l.o.o.d.y alarms, And rob thee, dear land, of all of thy charms.

But thy free spirit still rides on the swift gale, Like the eagle that sweeps o'er the mountain and dale; And thy sons, they rush forth with the courage of men, To fight, and to bleed, and to conquer again.

The tyrant, with shackles, would manacle thee-- Would strangle thy spirit, dear land of the free, Would trample the banner of right in the dust, And yoke thee with iron, proud queen of the just!

But the hearts of thy sons, unappalled by a fear, As their swords leap up fiercely and flame in the air, Now swear that it never! no! never! shall be, Bright queen of the lovely! sweet home of the free!

_Chorus_--The South! the South, etc.

THE GIRLS OF THE MONUMENTAL CITY.

WRITTEN BY A CONFEDERATE PRISONER.

Daughters of the sunny South, Where Freedom loves to dwell, How rare your charms, how sweet your smiles, No mortal lips can tell; Your native hills, the rippling rills, The echo wild and free, Declare you born to hate and scorn All Northern tyranny.

Girls whose smiles are all reserved, The Southern youth to bless; Whose hearts are kept for those who fight For Freedom's happiness; Your spirits bold, so now unfold What willingly you would do, Where Yankee spirit--the tyrants might Not wield against you.

For you your loving brothers rush To overthrow the invader's might-- On martial field the sword they wield, And Yankee cowards smite.

May heaven bless, with bright success, Each glorious Southern son; Be this your prayer, O maidens fair!

And our freedom will be won.

Southern girls, on this we've sworn, The South _must_--_shall be free_-- No Northern shackles will be worn; To them we'll bend no knee.

From hill to hill, exultant, shrill, Our battle-cry rings forth: Freedom or death on every breath, And hatred to the North.

Cease not to smile, brave Southern girls, On our efforts to be free-- Whilst life remains, we'll struggle on, Till all the world shall see That those who fight for home and right Can never be enslaved; Their blood may stain the battle-plain; Our country must be saved.

BALTIMORE, MD., _March, 1862_.

WAR SONG OF THE PARTISAN RANGERS.

BY BENJAMIN F. PORTER.

AIR--_McGregor's Gathering_.

The forests are green by the homes of the South, But the hearth-stones are red with the blood of her youth; Unfurl the black banner o'er mountain and vale, Let the war-cry of vengeance swell loud on the gale.

Then gather, gather, gather, gather, gather; While there's leaf in the forest, and foam on the river, The cry of the South shall be Vengeance Forever!

Each drop of the blood of our children they've shed, Our foes shall atone for, in heaps of their dead; The signal for fight which our forefathers knew, Shall be heard in their midst in our vengeful halloo.

Then gather, gather, etc.

Thro' their cities our hors.e.m.e.n, with sword and with flame, Shall carry the dread of the Southerner's name!

At the sound of our bugles their strong men shall quail, And the cheeks of their wives and their mothers turn pale.

Then gather, gather, etc.

They have blasted our fields, they have slaughtered our youth, And dishonored the names of the maids of the South; But the rivers shall dry, and the mountains be riven, Ere vengeance be quenched or our wrongs be forgiven.

Then gather, gather, etc.

Then rally from forest and rally from ford, Give their homes to the flames, and their sons to the sword; While a child shall be born in the South, let its cry Be, "Death to the Northmen, and vengeance for aye!"

_Greenville, Ala., Observer._

THE BAND IN THE PINES.

BY JOHN ESTEN COOKE.[15]

Oh, band in the pine-wood, cease!

Cease with your splendid call; The living are brave and n.o.ble, But the dead were bravest of all!

They throng to the martial summons, To the loud, triumphant strain; And the dear bright eyes of long-dead friends Come to the heart again!

They come with the ringing bugle, And the deep drum's mellow roar; Till the soul is faint with longing For the hands we clasp no more!