Soldier Songs and Love Songs Part 5

I plead with tears to thee, Sweet warbler of the shade, Breathe not such strains to me, The sweetest ever made.

Who bade thee slight my woes?

Who taught to pierce my heart?

Leave me to death's repose, Depart, sweet bird, depart.

Still come, with every strain, Warm dreams of woeless days; Still beam, on life's past plain, Love's long lost golden rays, That gleam on forms gone by, On friends I called my own, Who calmly rest, while I, Wild wandering, weep alone.

But if thou still must sing, Sing of my endless woes, Of Life, a poisoned spring, Of Love, a scattered rose; Wail-warble those who weep, Wild-warble but the brave; To the wearied, sing of sleep, And sing, to me, the grave.

BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE.

_Inscribed to Dennis F. Burke, last Commander of the Irish Brigade, at Gettysburg._

THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH.

"Why come ye to this mountain, lads, In panoply of war?

Why leave ye the hills of your native heath, To seek these heights afar?"

BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE.

"We have come to unchain the slave, And not for a dress parade; We have come to save man's flesh from the lash,"

Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.

"We have heard his low cry afar, We have felt the self-same chain, And we've come, my friends, through peace or war, To make the land of the Union Star The land without a stain."

THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH.

"Go home to your native soil, Ye sons of the Celtic brave; You will have to fight till the last man falls To free the Southern slave."

BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE.

"We have come to this fight to-day With no maiden, bloodless blade; We have come to fight till the last man falls,"

Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.

"We have felt of an iron heel, We have known a tyrant's hand, We have come to fight till the Rebels reel From the shotted sh.e.l.l of our cannon peal, And the hero-handled brand."

THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH.

"Then come to the battle charge!

Welcome the Celtic yell!

'Twixt you and the South, at the cannon's mouth, 'Tis Gettysburg or h.e.l.l!"

BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE.

"Then 'tis Gettysburg Heights or h.e.l.l!

We are here till the game is played; And a h.e.l.l he will feel who dares our steel,"

Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.

So they fought, and the story runs (All thanks to the Heavenly Powers), That the field was won by the Celtic sons; For h.e.l.l flashed Leeward from out their guns, And Gettysburg is ours!

TEARS, TEARS.

Tears, tears, With wifely fears Immixed--I held my breath, My boy!

As down the street The drums did beat That led you to your death, My boy!

Oh! Oh!

Where'er I go, And soldier boys I see, My jo!

I wis', I wis', For him whose kiss Was blessedness to me, My jo!

Still, still, By wish and will, The land you saved, I love, My boy!

Beneath a stone, It holds your bone, I'll clasp your soul above, My boy!

SHERRY IN THE SADDLE.

Sherry's not in saddle, Sherry's not in saddle, Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!

Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!

Boys in blue skedaddle, Boys in blue skedaddle, Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!

Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!

Sherry's not in saddle, Sherry's not in saddle, The Southron gray Is King to-day, For Sherry's not in saddle.

Sherry's in the saddle, Sherry's in the saddle, Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!

Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!

Boys in gray skedaddle, Boys in gray skedaddle, Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!

Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!

Sherry's in the saddle, Sherry's in the saddle, The Southron gray Bites gra.s.s to-day, For Sherry's in the saddle,

Sherry in the saddle, Sherry in the saddle, Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!

Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!

Union foes skedaddle, Union foes skedaddle, Zip-zip-zip! Zip-zip-zip!

Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!

Sherry in the saddle, Sherry in the saddle, By night or day, 'Twixt Blue and Gray, There's h.e.l.l to pay, When Sherry's in the saddle.