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ALLAN'S LONE STAR BALLADS. ^je^-gifoima State Library

Eaieigh

A COLLECTION

MADE DURING CONFEDERATE TIMES.

// 4Pt.mp write the Ballads of a Nation and 1 eavf not who makps the Laws. ''—Montesquieu.

i

OOMPILBD AND REVISED BY FMlTOIS I). ALLAli

r

GALVESTON, TEXAS :

J. D. SAWYER, PUBLISHER,

1874.

A 41 7^,

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by

FRANCIS D. ALLAN,

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. D, C.

f

Printeil at Galveston " News " Job Oftire.

Strinklaiid & Clarke, Bin.iers,

COMPILER'S NOTICE.

During the war the Compiler of this little volume published a small pamphlet of Southern War So)igs under the title of Allan's Lone Star BALLADS, No. 1, also a number in sheets, with the promise that some day he would issue them, with many never before in print, in a more dur- able form, for preservation. Until now he has been prevented from mak- ing good this promise, through heavy losses, the legitimate result of the war, and which was followed by the wanton burning of all his property by Major G. W. Smith and the Federal Soldiers under his command, at the city of Brenham, in Texas, on the night of the seventh of September, 1866, long after the war was supposed to be over, and from the effects of which he has never recovered. Many of the songs in hand at that time were also destroyed, and for the past eight years he has been engaged in re-gathering them, with many that he did not have before. For these he has to return his heartfelt thanks to many kind friends, some of them personally unknown to him. To one and all who have assisted him in this work, he desires to express his gratitude.

And now, at last, he has the pleasure of offering his little book to the kind regards of all who may think worthy of consideration and preserva- tion the songs so often " sung around the camp-fires " by companions-in- arms who have " fought their last battle " and " passed over the river " from their sight forever.

The Compiler has been desirous of making the work as complete and comprehensive as possible . Adhering to his original desire of issuing in a pamphlet form the genuine " Songs of the People," the present volume will be found to consist, in a great part, of Original Patriotic Songs evidently the offspring of the stirring events by which their writers were surrounded, and many of which are printed now for the first time. They have been selected with great care from a vast number of contributions from all parts of the State, as well as the Confederacy generally, and show an elevation of sentiment, and a genuine poetic feeling, rarely called forth in a People, except when filled with enthusiasm for their cause, and feel- ing conscious of its justice^ O C^ ^^ /I

IV

The Compiler may be permitted to say, by way of apology for whatever of literary demerit a strict criticism may fiud in some of its unlettered effusions, that he has been influenced solely by a desire to preserve, in as permanent a form as possible, a very important, but often neglected, por- tion of the history of those times that can never be forgotten. Who that has heard the terrible shout of the Marseillaise, or our own more joyous song of Dixie shouted in chorus in times of National excitement, could fail to mark how deeply the heart of the People can be touched by words or strains, no matter how rude, which gives vent to the stirring emotions of the day ?

These "Songs of the People "—the fleeting impress of the time— it has been his object to preserve in this compilation ; and if any of them may, in after time, sound dvill to the reflned ear, it must be remembered that they were composed, and sung, perhaps, amid the din and roar of bat- tle by the Soldier who gave his all, his strength, and noble courage, to the liberties of his country !

The Compiler has had access to nearly, perhaps, every Southern Song Book published, yet has found but few songs in them that he has thought exactly appropriate for this Memento, for the reason that they do not con- tain those. Songs — the life of the conflict — that were generally sung in the Camp, but yet they are all good, and worthy of preservation, as having been called forth by, and a part of the History of the War.

In conclusion, the Compiler can only hope that the book will be received by the people with as much pleasure as he has experienced in gathering and preparing the selections for it.

FRANCIS D. ALLAN, Compiler.

Galveston, Texas, November, 1874.

The Compiler is satisfied that not only in Texasi, but throughout the Southern States, many persons have in their possession copies of War Songs or Poetry that have never appeared in book form. He will he obliged to .whoever will send him copies of the same that he may use them in a more extended volume of Southern Patriotic Songs.

SOUTHEEU PATHIOTIC SOITGS.

HOOD'S TEXAS BEIGADR

Down by the valley 'mid thunder and lightning,

Down by the valley 'mid shadows of night, Down by the deep crimson'd valley of Richmond,

Twenty-five hundred mov'd on to the fight ; Onward, still onward, to the portals of glory,

To the sepulchral chambers, yet never dismayed ; Down by the deep crimson'd valley of Richmond,

March'd the bold warriors of Hood's Texas Brigade !

See ye the fires and flashes still leaping ?

See ye the tempest and jettings of storm V See ye the banners of proud Texan heroes.

In front of her column, move steadily on ? Hear ye the music that gladdens each comrade.

Riding on wings through torrents of sounds ? Hear ye the booming adown the red valley V

Riley ! unbuckles his swarthy old hounds ! *

Valiant Fifth Texas ! I saw your brave column

Rush through the channels of living and dead ; Sturdy Fourth Texas ! Why weep your old war-horse V

He died as he wish'd, in the gear, at your head : West Point ! ye will tell, on the pages of glory.

How the blood of the South ebb'd away near your shad<\, And how Sons of Texas ! fought in the red valley,

xlnd fell in the columns of Hood's Texas Brigade !

Fathers and mothers, ye weep for your jewels ;

Sisters, ye weep for your brothers in vain ; Maidens, ye weep for your sunny-eyed lovers —

Weep, for you'll never behold them again ! But know ye that vict'ry, the shrine of the noble,

Encircles the house of death newly made !

* Capt. Riley commanded a Battery composed of Irishmen, from North Carolina, and was nearly always attached to Hood's BRiGADt;. The " swarthy old hounds " refer to his Napoleon guns.

SOUTHERN PATEIOTIC SONGS.

And know ye tliat Freedom, the slirine of tlie mighty, Shines forth on the banners of Hood's Texas Brigade !

Daughters of Southland ! come bring ye bright flowers,

Weave ye a chaplet for the brow of the brave ; Bring ye the emblems of freedom and victory ;

Bring ye the emblems of death and the grave ; Bring ye some motto befitting a hero ;

Bring ye exotics that never will fade ; Come to the deep crinison'd valley of Richmond,

And crown our young Chief of the Texas Brigade !

THE SOLDIESS' SOM OP PASS OAVALLO.

BY COL. C. G, FORSHEY, C. S. ENGINEEKS.

Down the Matagorda Bay, flow the waters smooth and shallow, Gaining fleetness on the way, hurrying down to Pass Cavallo ; In and .outward, night and day, pushing through the Pass Cavallo — Lost in foaming ocean spray, round the .gate of Pass Cavallo.*

Many waters gladly meet in the Bays that glimmer nigh you ; And with names of beauty greet, gliding down to Pass Cavallo ; Bubbling now in music sweet, rolling thro' the Pass Cavallo, [vallo. Lost where the madden'd breakers meet, down beyond the Pass Ca-

Colorado leads the van, then Karankawa Arroya, Eddying round the level land, dancing down to Pass Cavallo ; In and outward o'er the sand, roaring thro' the Pass Cavallo, Swallow'd up in billows grand, far below the Pass Cavallo.

Trespalacios, Navidad, and the murmuring Ayrenosa, Join their music, ever glad, with the laughing Alambrosa ; Then Lavaca's limpid tide, (with the clear Gai'citas vieing). Swells the chorus as they glide thro' the sweeping Pass Cavallo.

Casa Blanca whimpers on, like a gentle South wind sighing ; Indianola fills the song, swelling down to Pass Cavallo ; Louder, deeper, sweep along, thro' the rushing Pass Cavallo ; [vallo Lost where frighten'd billows throng, round the mouth of Pass Ca

^ *In all the stanzas after the first, pronounce " Cavallo " with the Span- ish liquid sound, Ca-vi-yo.

SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SONGS. 7

All the laughing; rivers meet, near Saluria's placid Baj'-ou, Mingling in the narrow'd street, gushing thro' the Pass Cavallo ; Washing Esperanza's seat, by the seething Pass Cavallo ; Lost around the Yankee fleet, dogging now the Pass Cavallo. Yankee Hessians, on yon ship, every Rebel here would try you, If you dared to take a step on the shore of Pass Cavallo ; ^ Not a rascal shall escape, if you land at Pass Cavallo ; Riddled well with ball and grape, you shall sleep at Pass Cavallo. Texas maidens, passing fair, we would ground our muskets by you. If you would but quaff the air floating round the Pass Cavallo ; Give a smile to soldiers there, guarding well the Pass Cavallo ; Night and day, or foul or fair, ever guarding Pass Cavallo. When this bloody war subsides, from Atlantic to Ohio, Texan boys will take their rides on Prairies far from Pass Cavallo ; Certain then to woo their brides on the hills that slope to Pass Ca- vallo ; Teach their little girls to sing " The Soldiers' Song of Pass Cavallo." Fort Esperanza, Pass Cavallo, March, 1882.

TEXAS AND VIEaiNIA.

BY CAPT. P. M. SALOI.

Am — Annie Laurie. The Texas boys are valiant, their courage none deny, And for their country's freedom they lay them down and die : They lay them down and die, yes, every Texas son ; They sleep in Old Virginia, the land of Washington. Mount Vernon ! Shrine so holy ! there Washington doth lie And to protect his ashes we'd lay us down and die ; We'd lay us down and die, yes, every Texas son ; We'd sleep in Old Virginia, on the banks of Old Bull Run. The spirit is still in us, of Henry and of Lee ; And none shall be our masters, for freemen we will be ; For freemen T^e will be, yes, every Texas son ; Or sleep in Old Virginia, the land of Washington. Then look, ye Northern vandals, think you that we will fly ? No ! bravely we will meet you, and conquer you or die ; And conquer you or die, yes, every mother's son ; Or sleep in Old Virginia, the land of Washington.

SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SONGS.

Our Star and State, and beauty, at San Jacinto won ! Then, Texans, do your duty, yes, every Texas son ; Yes, every Texas son, come forward, every one, And die in Old Virginia, the land of Washington.

And if Abe dare invade us, we promise all who come. Free passage to Hades, Abe Lincoln's final home ; Abe Lincoln's final home, and the home of every one Who treads with desecration, the grave of Washington.

AWAKE ! TO AEMS m TEXAS ! Air — Dixie.

Hear ye not the sound of battle.

Sabres clash and musket rattle ? Awake, awake, awake in Texas ! .

Hostile footsteps on your border ;

Hostile columns tread in order ; Awake, awake, awake in Texas !

Chorus — 0, fiy to arms in Texas ! to arms ! to arms ! From Texas land we'll rout the band That comes to conquer Texas — Awake, awake ! and rout the foe from Texas,

See the red smoke hanging o'er us ; Hear the cannon's booming chorus ;

Awake, awake, awake in Texas ! See our steady columns forming. Hear the shouting — hear the storming ;

Awake, awake, awake in Texas !

All the Northmen's forces coming ; Hark ! the distant, rapid drumming ; *

Awake, awake, awake in Texas ! Prouder ranks than theirs were driven. When our Mexic ties were riven ;

Awake, awake, awake in Texas !

Gird your loins with swords and sabre ; Give your lives to freedom's labor ; Awake, awake, awake in Texas !

SOrXHERN PATRIOTIC SONCiS.

What though ev'ry heart be sadden'd- What though all the land be redden'd- Avvake, awake, awake in Texas !

Shall this boasting, mad invader. Trample Texas and degrade her ?

Awake, awake, awake in Texas ! By our fathers' proud example, Texas soil they shall not trample ;

Awake, awake, awake in Texas !

Texan s ! meet them on the border ; Charge them into wild disorder ;

Awake, awake, awake in Texas ! Hew the vandals down before you, Till the last inch they restore you ;

Awake, awake, awake in Texas !

Through the echoing hills resounding, Hear the Texan bugles sounding ;

Awake, awake, awake in Texas ! Arouse from ev'ry hill and valley ; List the bugle ! Rally ! rall.>^!

Awake, awake, awake in Texas !

VISG-IUIA.

Three cheers for Virginia, the home of the free. The birth-place of Washington, the land of liberty ! Her soil is invaded by tyrants and knaves. Her fields once so brilliant now gloomy with graves, Chokus — Virginia, Virginia, and sweet Liberty —

Three cheers for Virginia, the home of the free ! To arms, ye brave sires, and fly to the held ; Thy aim shall be victory, and courage be thy shield ; And trust in your God, for 'tis He rules us all ; Prepare for thy Maker, be ready for His call. Virginia, Virginia ! the battle's begun ;

We've fought the Northern army, and the vict'ry we have won Forever the cry of our leaders shall be " On, on to the charge ! brave sons, follow me ! "

10 SOUTHERHf PATRIOTIC SONGS.

ALL QUIET ALOM THE POTOMAC TO-NiaHT.

BY liAMAE, FONTAINE, OF WASHINGTON, TEXAS.

" All quiet along tlie Potomac to-night," tliey say.

Except now and tlien a stray picket Is shot, as he walks on his beat to and fro

By a rifleman hid in the thicket ; 'Tis nothing — a private or two, now and then,

Will not count in the news of the battle : Not an officer lost, only one of the men.

Moaning out, all alone, the death-rattle.

" All quiet along the Potomac to-night,"

Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming ; Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,

And the light of the watch-fires are gleaming ; A tremulous sigh, as the gentle night wind

Thro' the forest leaves slowly is creeping. While the stars up above, with their glittering eyes.

Keep guard o'er the army while sleeping.

There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread.

As he tramps from the rock to the fountain. And thinks of the two on the low trundle-bed.

Far away in the cot on the mountain ; His musket falls slack ; his face, dark and grim,

Grows gentle with memories tender. As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep,

And their mother — " May Heaven defend her ! "

The moon seems to shine as bright as it did then —

That night when the love, yet unspoken, Leap'd up to his lips, and when low. murmured vov/s.

Were pledged to be ever unbroken ; Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes.

He dashes off tears that are welling. And gathers his gun close up to his breast.

As if to keep down the heart's swelling.

He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree. And his footstep is lag-ging and weary ;

Yet onward he goes, thro' the broad belt of light. Toward the shades of the forest so dreary ;

SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SONGS. 11

Hark ! was it the niglit wind tiiat rustled the leaves ?

Was it moonlight, so wonclrously flashing ? It look'd like a rifle — " Ha ! Mary, good-bye ! "

And his life-blood is ebbing and plashing.

" All quiet along the Potomac, to-night ; "

No sound, save the rush of the river, While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead-^

The j)icket's off duty forever.

BOMBAKDMEliTT AED BATTLES OF GALVESTON.

(From June 1, 1862, to January 1, 1863.)

BY S. R. EZZELL, OF CAPT. DALY'S COMPANY.

Am — Auld Lang Syne.

The Yankees hate the Lone Star State, because she did secede ; At Galveston they've now begun to make her soldiers bleed. [town ; The " Old Blockade " her threats has made, that she will burn our But Col. Cook, with piercing look, declares he'll stand his ground.

High in the breeze he soon did raise the flag with single Star, Saying, " Let them come, we'll give them some, before they are Along the coast he soon did post his batteries, well mann'd[a ware." By men of might, prepar'd to fight, behind breastworks of sand.

Like lions brave, their land to save, the cavalry do stand. Ready to charge the Yankee barge that first attempts to land ; Infantry, too, like soldiers true, who never yet did fail, They long to greet the Yankee fleet with masketry like hail.

We wait to see the " Old Santee " come sailing into shore ; And then we'll fight for Southern rights, and make the cannon roar ; But if a fleet we have to meet, of gunboats large and strong. We'll cross the bridge without a siege, and think it nothing wrong.

When on main-land, we'll take our stand, and all their hosts defy ; There we will fight for Southern rights — we'll fight them till we die. ^ * * * *****

Two months pass'd by, they came not nigh, but only cruis'd around, As if to find the channel's wind, for which they oft did sound ; But this was all, the Eagle bald, did not attempt to land : His courage fail'd, away he sailed, and made no more demand.

12 SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SONGS.

But Hcwriet Lane, she did remain, with quite a heavy fleet ; Slie came up nigher and open'd fire, in order quite complete ; Twas at Fort Point she did dismount our best and largest gun ; 'Twas now in vain here to remain, so we for life did run.

'Mid bomb and grape we did escape, and not a life was lost ; [ed ; bearing the -town they would burn down, over the bridge we cross- Then on main-land we took our stand, determined not to yield, Tho' bomb and ball should thickly fall, and we die on the field.

(ren. Her BEET he came not near, but strangely stood aloof, ^>om San Antone he did look on, where was good old '' 4th proof." ■::- * * * * * * * *

AlArrE-UDER came, a man of fame, the Texas boys to lead ; From Rio Grande he did command, to come with rapid speed ; " My plan is laid," he quickly said, "Galveston to retake;" [quake." " Brave boys ! " said he " come, follow me ; we'll make the Yankees

Three bayou crafts, of shallow draught, with cotton breastworks

neat ; Tiiree hundred men, and three small guns, composed our Texas fleet; Now ready quite, the Feds to fight, our land force did repair. Along Strand street, the Yanks to greet, just as our boats came near.

'I'lie Lone Star State must seal her fate, in ruin, shame and woe. Or bravely fight for Southern rights, and triumph o'er the foe ; On New Year's morn, before day dawn, the year of sixty-three. The New Year's gifts came flying swift, both from the land and sea.

The lightning glare, both far and near, the darkness did dispel ; Grape, bomb and ball did thickly fall, our forces to repel ; MAaRUDER then said to his men, "Your country you mnxt save, And still maintain your glorious name, the hravest of the hrave." We fear'd them not, but bravely fought, our homesteads to main- i»y break of day we had the Bay at our command again ; [tain ; The Yankee fleet we did defeat, and captur'd all their crews, Exceot a few who were untrue, and sail'd off under truce.

GENESAL PSIOE'S APPEAL.

Come from the Western fountains.

Come from the plains so wild and rough,

Come to me from the Rocky Mountains, And I shall have soldiers enough !

SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SONGS. 13

How many stalwart boys are sleeping, Who boast the name of noble sires,

While Egyptian darkness is creeping- Like death round their vigil fires !

Come to me as if you were flying,

Come thro' the storm and rain and snow ;

Come to me, upon God relying. And we will lay the Hessians low.

How long will the cowardly Tory

Lay in waste our beautiful land ? How long will parents, old and hoary.

Mourn for their stricken household band ?

Come to me without arms or money —

Fortune always favors the brave — My meat is locust and wild honey.

But still, thank God, I am no slave !

How long my banner has been waving ;

How few like me have fac'd the foe, I ask not, I care not, if braving

All dangers you come to me now.

Come to me, though ragged and lonely,

And poor and despised you may be. You shall be rewarded, if only

You fight for Missouri and me !

The tyrant may work me much evil,

Because I the war still prolong. But I'll fight 'till I tire the devil,

If you will come fifty thousand strong !

THE SOUTHEEl^ WAG02J.

A IK — Wait for the Wagon.

Come, all ye Sons of Freedom ! and join our Southern band, We are going to fight the Yankees, and drive them from our land; Justice is our motto, and Providence our guide, So jump into the wagon, and we'll ?J1 take a ride.

Chorus — So wait for the wagon, the dissolution wagon,

The South is our wagon, and we'll all take a ride.

14 SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SONGS.

Secession is our watchword ! our rights we all demand ; And to defend our firesides we'll pled^^e our hearts and hands ; Jeff Davis is our President, with Stephens by his side ; Brave Beauregard and Johnson will join us in our ride.

Our wagon is the very best — the running gear is good — Stuff'd round the sides with Cotton, and made of Southern wood ; CciToUna is the driver, with Oeorgia by her side ; Virginia holds the flag up, while we all take a ride.

There's Tennessee and Texas also in the ring, They wouldn't have a government that Cotton wasn't King ; Alahrmia too, and Florida, \\&\&\ong ago replied ; Mississip2}i is in the wagon anxious for a ride.

Kentucky, Maryland, with some others, certainly are slow. They must join ere long, or where will they go ? The Missouri boys are ready to join our noble tide ; So come along brave Jackson ! and join us in the ride.

The invading tribe, called Yankees, with Lincoln for their guide. Tried hard to keep Kentucky from joining in the ride ; But she heeded not their coaxings — she has come into the ring. She wouldn't fight for a government where Cotton wasn't King.

Old Lincoln and his Congressmen, with Seward by their side, Put old Scott in the wagon, just for to take a ride : McDowell was the driver, to cross Bull Run he tried, But there he left the wagon for Beauregard to ride.

Manassas was the battle-ground, the field was fair and wide, The Yankees tho't they'd whip us out, and on to Richmond ride ; But when they met our "Dixie " boys, their danger they espied, So wheel' d about for Washington, and didn't wait to ride.

Brave Beauregard ! God bless him ! led legions in his stead. While Johnson seized the colors, and wav'd them o'er his head : To rising generations, with pleasure we will tell. How bravely our Fisher and gallant Johnson fell !

Our cause is just and holy, our men are brave and true. To whip the Lincoln invaders is all we have to do ; God bless our noble army ! in Him we all confide ! So jump into the wagon, and let's all take a ride.

SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SONGS. 15

THEEE'S LIFE IN THE OLD LAND YET.

BY JAMES R. RAJ^DALL,

By blue Patapsco's billowy dash.

The tyrant's war-shout comes, Along with the cymbal's fitful clash.

And the growl of sullen drums ; We hear it ; we heed it with vengeful thrills.

And we shall not forgive or forget ; There's faith in the streams, there's hope in the hills ;

There's life in the Old Land yet !

Minions ! we sleep, but we are not dead ■

We are crush'd, we are scoiirg'd, we are scarr'd ; We crouch — 'tis to welcome the triumph tread

Of the peerless Beauregard ! Then woe to your vile polluting horde,

When the Southern braves are met ; There's faith in the victor's stainless sword ;

There's life in the Old Land yet !

Bigots ! ye quell not the valiant mind

With the clank of an iron chain ; The spirit of Freedom sings in the wind

O'er Merryman, Thomas and Kane; And we, though we smite not, are not thralls —

We are piling a gory debt — While, down by McHenry's dungeon walls,

There's life in the Old Land yet !

Our women have hung their harps away,

And they scowl on your brutal bands, While the nimble poignard dares the day.

In their dear, defiant hands : They will strip their tresses to string our bows.

Ere the Northern sun is set ; There's faith in their unrelenting woes :

There's life in the Old Land yet !

There's life, tho' it throbbeth in silent veins ;

'Tis vocal without noise ; It gusli'd o'er Manassas's solemn plains.

From the blood of the Maryland boys : ^

16 SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SONGS.

That blood shall cry aloud, and rise,

With an everlasting threat ; By the death of the brave, by the God in the skies,

There's life in the Old Land yet !

THE GIRL I LETT BEHIITD ME.

I'm lonesome since I cros'd the hills and o'er the moor that's sedgy

With heavy thoughts my mind is fill'd, since parted I with Peggy.

Chokus — But if ever I get thro' this war, and Lincoln's boys

don't bind me, [behind me.

I'll make my way right back again to the girl I left

Where'er I turn to view the place, the tears doth fall and blind me. When I think on the charming grace of the girl I left behind me

The hours I remember well, when next to see doth move me ; [me. The burning flames my heart doth teU since first she own'd she lov'd

In search of some one fair and gay, several doth remind me ; I know my darling loves me well, tho' I left her behind me.

The bees shall lavish, make no store, and the dove become a ran- The falling water cease to roar, before I'll ever change her. [ger.

Each mutual promise faithful made, by her whose tears doth blind And bless the hours I pass away, with the girl I left behind me. [me,

My mind her image full retains, whether asleep or waking, I hope to see my jewel again, for her my heart is breaking !

MORGAN'S WAS SONG.

Cheer, boys, cheer ! we'll march away to battle I

Cheer, boys, cheer ! for our sweethearts and our wives :

Cheer, boys, cheer ! we'll nobly do our duty. And give to the South our hearts, our arms, our lives.

Bring forth the flag — our country's noble standard ;

Wave it ou high, 'till the wind shakes each fold out : Proudly it floats, nobly waving in the vanguard ;

Theucheer, boys, cheer ! with a lusty,' long, bold shout. Cheer, boys, cheer ! &c.

SOUHTEEN PATRIOTIC SONGS. 17

But as we uiarchi, witli heads all lowly bending,

Let us implore ablessing from on liigli ; Our cause is jnst — the right from wror.g defending.

And the God of Battles will listen to our cry, Cheer, boys, cheer ! &c.

Tho' to our homes we never may return,

Ne'er j^ress again our lov'd ones in our arms, O'er our lone graves their faithful hearts will mourn ;

Then cheer uj), boys, cheer ! such death hath no alarms, Cheer, boys, cheer ! &c.

THE LAND OF TEXAS.

BY M. B. SMITH, OF CO. C, SECOND REGIMENT TEXAS VOLS.

Air — Dixie.

Texas is the land for me ;

On a winter morning the wind blows free ; Away, boys, away down South in Texas !

In Texas land, where I was born in,

Early one fine summer morning ;

Away, boys, away, down South in Texas !

Chorus — In the happy land of Texas, hurrah, hurrah ! In Texas land we'll take our stand, And fight and die for Texas land, Hurrah, hurrah! hurrah for the boys of Texas!

Texas land is the land for Cotton, Piney hills or sandy bottom ;

x\way, boys, away down South in Texas ! Here the finest corn we raise. With oats, wheat, barley, peas and maize ;

Away, boys, away down South in Texas 1

Here we have all sorts of game,

Th^ numerous kinds I will not name ;

Away, boys, away down South in Texas ! The beasts of the field and birds of the air Are found in Texas everywhere ;

Away, boys, away down South in Texas '

North Carolina Stale Library

18 SOUTHEEN PATRIOTIC SONGS.

Here tlie Southern sun dotli sliine. Which makes all nature look sublhne ;

Away, boys, away down South in Texas ! O, Texas land is the land forever, Up the hill or down the river ;

Away, boys, away down South in Texas !

Here the men grow stout and steady, Ever brave and always ready ;

Away, boys, away down South in Texas! Here we have the finest ladies, Girls as sweet and pretty as daises.

Away, boys, away down South in Texas !

Texas is my home by birth, —

And shall be until the day of death —

Away, boys, away down South in Texas ! When I fall, then will I cry, " Farewell, Texas ! let me die —

Away, boys, away down South in Texas !'

SOTJTHEEU MARSEILLAISE.

Sons of the South, awake to glory !

A thousand voices bid you rise ; Your children, wives and grandsires hoary, Gaze on you now with trusting eyes ! Gaze on you now with trusting eyes ! Your country every strong arm calling, To meet the hireling Northern band That comes to desolate the land. With fire and blood and scenes appalling : To arms, to arms, ye brave ! The avenging sword unsheathe !

March on ! march on ! All hearts resolv'd on victory or death !

Now, now, the dangerous storm is rolling, Which treach'rous brothers madly raise :

The dogs of war let loose are howling, And soon our peaceful towns may blaze ! And soon our peaceful towns may blaze !

SOUTHEEK PA.TRIOTIC SONGS. 19

Shall fiends who basely plot our ruin.

Uncheck'd, advance with guilty stride,

To spread destruction far and wide, With {Southrons' blood their hands imbruing ?

With needy, starving mobs surrounded,

The jealous, blind fanatics dare To offer, in their zeal unbounded,

Our happy slaves their tender care

Our happy slaves their tender care ! The South, tho' deepest wrongs bewailing,

Long yielded all to Union's name,

But Independence now we claim, And all their threats are unavailing !

MISSOUEI; OS, A VOICE FEOM THE SOUTH.

BY HARRY MACARTHY.

Missouri, Missouri ! bright land of the West,

Where the way-worn emigrant always found rest ;

Who gave to the farmer reward for the toil

Expended in breaking and turning the soil ;

Awake to the notes of the bugle and drum !

Awake from your peace, for the tyrant hath come !

And swear by your honor that your chains shall be riven, And add your bright star to our Flag of Eleven.

They'd force you to join in their unholy fight. With fire and with sword, with power and with might, 'Gainst fathers and brothers, and kindred near ; 'Gainst women and children, and all you hold dear ; They've overrun your soil, insulted the Press, Murder'd your citizens, shown no redress — So swear by your honor, &c.

Missouri, Missouri ! where is thy proud fame ? Free land of the West, thy once cherish'd name Trod in the dust by a tyrant's command ; Proclaiming there's martial law in the land : Men of Missouri ! strike without fear, McCuLLOUGH, Jackson, and brave men are near. So swear by your honor, &c.

20 SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SOKOS.

THE VOLUITTEEE; OE, IT IS MY COUNTRY'S CALL.

BY HARHY MACARTHY.

I leave my liome and thee, dear, with sorrow at my heart, It is my country's call, dear, to aid her I depart : And on the blood-red battle plain, we'll conquer or we'll die ; 'Tis for our honor and our name, we raise the battle-cry. Chotius — Then weep not, dearest, weep not, if in the cause I fall; O, weep not, dearest, weep not, it is my country's call.

And yet, my iieart is sore, love, to see thee weeping thus ; But mark me, there's no fear, love, for in Heav'n is oar trust ; And if the heavy drooping tear swells in my mournful eye, It is that Northmen of our land should cause the battle-cry.

Our rights have been usurp'd, dear, by Northmen of our land ; Fanatics rais'd the cry, dear, politicians fired the brand; The Southrons spurn the galling yoke, the tyrants' threats defy; They find we've sons like sturdy oaks to raise the battle-cry.

I knew you'd let me go, pet, I saw it in that tear, To join the gallant men, pet, who never yet knew fear ; With BsAUREG^ARD and Davis, we'll gain our cause or die ; Win battles like Manassas, and raise the battle-cry.

LADIES, TO THE HOSPITAL !

BY "PRRSONNE," COEEES. OF THE " CHART.ESTON COUllTETJ.

Fold away all your bright tinted dresses ;

Turn the key on your jewels to-day ; And the wreath of your tendril like tresses.

Braid back in a serious way : No more delicate gloves, no more laces ;

No more tritiing in boudoir or bower ; But come with your souls in your faces.

To meet the stern wants of the hour !

Look around : By the torch-light unsteady, The dead and the dying seem one ;

What? trembling and paling already. Before your mission's begun ?

SOUTHERN PATEIOTIC SONG-S. " 21

These wounds are more precious than ghastly :

Time presses her lips to each scar, While she chants of that glory which vastly

Transcends all the horrors of war.

Pause here by this bedside : How mellow

The light showers down on that brow ; Such a brave, brawny visage ! Poor f ellov/ !

Some homestead is missing him now ; Some wife shades her eyes in the clearing;

Some mother sits moaning distressed ; While the lov'd one lies faint but unfearing.

With the enemy's ball in his breast !

Here's another ; a lad — a mere stripling —

Picked up on the field almost dead. With the blood through his sunny hair ripjoling,

From a horrible gash in the head ! They say he was first in the action,

Gay hearted, quick handed and witty ; He fought till he dropped with exhaustion,

In front of our fair Southern city :

Fought and fell 'neath the guns of that city.

With a spirit transcending his years ; Lift him up in your large-hearted pity,

And wet his pale lips with your tears : Touch him gently ; most sacred that duty

Of dressing that poor shatter'd hand ; God spare him to rise in his beauty,

And battle once more for his land !

Who groan'd ? What a passionate murmur :

'• In Thy mercy, 0 God ! let me die !" Ha ! surgeon, your hand must be firmer.

That musket ball's entered his thigh : Turn the light on those poor furrow'd features.

Gray hair'd and unknown. Bless thee, brother ! Oh Heaven ! that one of Thy creatures

Should e'er work such woe on another !

Wipe the sweat from his brow with your 'kerchief, Let the tatter'd old collar go wide!

1

22 SOUTHEKN PATRIOTIC SONGS.

See ! He stretches out blindly to see if Tlie surgeon still stands by his side :

" My son's over yonder — he's wounded — O, this ball has entered my thigh !"

And again he bursts out all a tremble, " In Thy mercy, O God ! let me die !"

Pass on : It is useless to linger

While others are claiming your care ; There is need for your delicate finger.

For your womanly sympathy there : There are sick ones athirst for caressing ;

There are dying ones raving of home ; There are wounds to be bound with a blessing

And shrouds to make ready for some.

They have gather'd about you the harvest

Of death in its ghastliest view ; The nearest as well as the farthest

Is here with the traitor and true ; And crown'd with your beautiful patience.

Made sunny with love at the heart ; You must balsam the wounds of a nation.

Nor falter nor shrink from your part !

Up and down through the wards where the fever

Stalks noisome and gaunt and impure. You must go with your steadfast endeavor

To comfort, to counsel, to cure ! I grant you the task is superhuman.

But strength will be given to you To do for those lov'd ones, what woman

Alone in her pity can do.

And the lips of the mothers will bless you, As Angels sweet visaged and pale ;

And the little ones run to caress you. And the wives and the sisters cry Hail !

But e'en if you drop down unheeded.

What matters ? God's ways are the best !

SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SONGS. 28

You have pour'd out your life where 'twas needed, . And He will take care of the rest !

LONE STAE BAOTEE OP THE FEEE !

BY MAJOR E. W. CAVE.

Air — Rule BHtannia.

When first from out a sky of gloom,

The Lone Star lit a Nation's way. The vengeful tyrant saw his doom.

As Freedom's banner caught each ray. Chorus — Lone Star banner : banner of the free ! Texians win or die with thee !

Reflected once on thy broad shield, Its golden hues were planted there ;

And o'er thy sons, on ev'ry field, 'Tis seen amid the battle's glare.

Now, when a desolating horde, Lnpell'd by hate, despoil the land,

Foremost behold the avenging sword, Borne by the Texian patriot's hand.

In thickest fight, on SftiloNs plain,

Or where Arkansas waters flow, 'Mid cannon's roar and bullet's rain.

Behold the Texian drives the foe.

Blood-stain'd and battle-torn thy folds,

From Gaines's Mill and Manassas borne ; And death's eternal slumber holds ' The boastful Zouave, his laurels shorn.

Virginia's classic soil has known.

Broad Mississippi's vales attest Thy patriot sons ; their dying moan

Is heard where Southern heroes rest.

Thy sons will prove their glorious name, If here the f oeman's tread shall fall :

Our Leader bears Virginia's fame, Texians will rally at his call !

2i SOUTHERN PATRIOTIC SONGS.

THE TEXAS EANQEE.

BY MR. KENNEDY, BRITISH CONSUL AT GALVESTON, 1886.

Air — I'm Afloat. Mount, mount ! and away o'er the green prairie wide, The sword is our sceptre, the fleet steed our pride ; Up, up with our flag, let its bright folds gleam out ; Mount, mount ! and away o'er the wild border's scout ; We care not for danger ; we heed not the foe ; Where our brave steeds can bear us, right onward we go, And never, as cowards, will we flee from the fight. While our belts bear a blade, our star sheds its light.

Chorus — Then mount and away, give the fleet steed full rein, The Ranger's at home on his prairie again ; Spur, spur on the chase — dash on to the fight. Cry vengeance for Texas, and God speed the right !

The might of the foe gathers thick on our way ; They hear our wild shout as we rush to the fray : What to us is the fear of the death-stricken plain '? We've brav'd it before, and we'll brave it again ! The death-dealing bullets around us may fall ; They may wound, they may kill, but they can not appal :