And let our path through their serried ranks Be the fierce tornado's track, That bursts from the torrid's fervid banks And scatters destruction black! For the hot life leaping in the veins Of our young Confederacy, Must break for aye the galling chains Of dark-browed Treachery.
On! on! 'tis our gallant chieftain calls (He must not call in vain), For aid to guard his homestead walls-- Our Hero of the Plain! We come! we come, to do or die, Nor feel that the lot is hard: "God and our Rights!" be our battle cry, And, "On, to Beauregard!"
Upon our country's border lay, Holding the ruthless foe at bay, Through chilly night and burning day, Our army at Manassas.
To them our eager eyes were turned, While many a restless spirit burned, And many a fond heart wildly yearned, O'er loved ones at Manassas.
For fast the Vandals gathered, strong In wealth and numbers, all along Our highways pressed a countless throng, To battle at Manassas.
With martial pomp and proud array, With burnished arms and banners gay, Panting for the inhuman fray, They rolled upon Manassas.
The opening cannons' thunders rent The air, and ere their charge was spent, Muskets and rifles quickly sent Death to us at Manassas.
But, like a wall of granite, stood The true, the great, the brave, the good, Who, firmly holding field and wood, Guarded us at Manassas.
They promptly answered fire with fire; Danger could not with fear inspire Their hearts, whose courage rose the higher, When death ruled at Manassas.
At dawn the murderous work begun; The battle fiercely raged at noon; Evening drew on--'twas not done-- The carnage at Manassas.
Oh, trembling Freedom! didst thou stay Throughout that agonizing day, To watch where victory would lay Her laurels at Manassas?
Yea! and thy potent trumpet tone Ordered our gallant warriors on, To the bold charge which for thee won The triumph at Manassas.
Well might the dastard foemen yield, When Right and Vengeance joined to wield The well-aimed ball and glittering steel, Which hurled them from Manassas.
They broke, and fear lent wings to feet Flying before our chargers fleet, Which followed up their wild retreat-- Their mad rout at Manassas.
Strike! Southrons, strike! for ne'er a foe So worthy of your every blow Can your good swords and carbines know, As those who sought Manassas.