When Liberty sounds her war-rattle, Demanding her right and her due, The first land who rallies to battle Is Dixie, the shrine of the true; Thick as leaves of the forest in summer, Her brave sons will rise on each plain; And strike, until each vandal comer Lies dead on the soil he would stain. Three cheers for our army, etc.
May the names of the dead, that we cherish, Fill memory's cup to the brim; May the laurels they've won never perish, Nor "star of their glory grow dim;" May the States of the South never sever, But champions of freedom e'er be; May they flourish, Confed'rate forever, The boast of the brave and the free. Three cheers for our army, etc.[11]
Awake and to horse, my brothers! For the dawn is glimmering gray, And hark! in the crackling brushwood There are feet that tread this way.
"Who cometh?" "A friend." "What tidings?" "O God! I sicken to tell; For the earth seems earth no longer, And its sights are sights of hell!
"From the far-off conquered cities Comes a voice of stifled wail, And the shrieks and moans of the houseless Ring out, like a dirge on the gale.
"I've seen from the smoking village Our mothers and daughters fly; I've seen where the little children Sank down in the furrows to die.
"On the banks of the battle-stained river I stood as the moonlight shone, And it glared on the face of my brother, As the sad wave swept him on.
"Where my home was glad, are ashes, And horrors and shame had been there, For I found on the fallen lintel This tress of my wife's torn hair!
"They are turning the slaves upon us, And with more than the fiend's worst art, Have uncovered the fire of the savage, That slept in his untaught heart!
"The ties to our hearths that bound him, They have rent with curses away, And maddened him, with their madness, To be almost as brutal as they.
"With halter, and torch, and Bible, And hymns to the sound of the drum, They preach the gospel of murder, And pray for lust's kingdom to come.
"To saddle! to saddle! my brothers! Look up to the rising sun, And ask of the God who shines there, Whether deeds like these shall be done!
"Wherever the vandal cometh, Press home to his heart with your steel, And when at his bosom you can not, Like the serpent, go strike at his heel.