“He sleeps ’neath the soil that the hero loved well,In the land of his birth, his own sunny South,”—
“He sleeps ’neath the soil that the hero loved well,In the land of his birth, his own sunny South,”—
“He sleeps ’neath the soil that the hero loved well,In the land of his birth, his own sunny South,”—
“He sleeps ’neath the soil that the hero loved well,
In the land of his birth, his own sunny South,”—
Stonewall Jackson: “Canada pays a tribute to the Lion of the Valley. The following appeared originally in the MontrealAdvertiser.” (S. L. M., Ed. Table. September and October, ’62.)
“Not in the dim Cathedral,Filled with the organ’s tones,”—
“Not in the dim Cathedral,Filled with the organ’s tones,”—
“Not in the dim Cathedral,Filled with the organ’s tones,”—
“Not in the dim Cathedral,
Filled with the organ’s tones,”—
Stonewall Jackson: By the Kilkenny Man (Dublin Nation). [Irish?] (Amaranth.)
“God rest you! Stonewall Jackson—Now your gallant heart is still,”—
“God rest you! Stonewall Jackson—Now your gallant heart is still,”—
“God rest you! Stonewall Jackson—Now your gallant heart is still,”—
“God rest you! Stonewall Jackson—
Now your gallant heart is still,”—
Stonewall Jackson: In Memoriam: May 20, 1863. (W. L.)
“Oh! weep, our gallant chief’s among the dead!Cold lies the sod above his noble head,”—
“Oh! weep, our gallant chief’s among the dead!Cold lies the sod above his noble head,”—
“Oh! weep, our gallant chief’s among the dead!Cold lies the sod above his noble head,”—
“Oh! weep, our gallant chief’s among the dead!
Cold lies the sod above his noble head,”—
Stonewall Jackson: Mortally Wounded—“The Brigade must not know, sir.” (W. G. S.)
“‘Who’ve ye got there?’ ‘Only a dying brother,Hurt at the front just now,’”—
“‘Who’ve ye got there?’ ‘Only a dying brother,Hurt at the front just now,’”—
“‘Who’ve ye got there?’ ‘Only a dying brother,Hurt at the front just now,’”—
“‘Who’ve ye got there?’ ‘Only a dying brother,
Hurt at the front just now,’”—
Stonewall Jackson: A Dirge. (W. G. S.)
“Go to thy rest, great chieftain!In the zenith of thy fame,”—
“Go to thy rest, great chieftain!In the zenith of thy fame,”—
“Go to thy rest, great chieftain!In the zenith of thy fame,”—
“Go to thy rest, great chieftain!
In the zenith of thy fame,”—
Stonewall Jackson on the Eve of Battle: By Mrs. Catherine A. Warfield. (E. V. M., ’69.)
“In the camp the waning watch-fire,Throws a dim and lurid glare,”—
“In the camp the waning watch-fire,Throws a dim and lurid glare,”—
“In the camp the waning watch-fire,Throws a dim and lurid glare,”—
“In the camp the waning watch-fire,
Throws a dim and lurid glare,”—
Stonewall Jackson’s Grave: By Mrs. M. J. Preston of Lexington, Virginia. (E. V. M.)
“A simple sodded mound of earth,With not a line above it,”—
“A simple sodded mound of earth,With not a line above it,”—
“A simple sodded mound of earth,With not a line above it,”—
“A simple sodded mound of earth,
With not a line above it,”—
“Stonewall” Jackson’s Way: By John Williamson Palmer, M.D. Oakland, Md., September 17, 1862. S. L. M., Ed. Table, Feb., ’63. (E. V. M.)
“Come, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails;Stir up the camp fire bright;”—
“Come, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails;Stir up the camp fire bright;”—
“Come, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails;Stir up the camp fire bright;”—
“Come, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails;
Stir up the camp fire bright;”—
Stonewall Song: Air, “Wait for the Wagon.” (Randolph.)
“Come, Louisiana soldiers, and listen to my Song,And if you’ll just be patient, I won’t detain you long:”—
“Come, Louisiana soldiers, and listen to my Song,And if you’ll just be patient, I won’t detain you long:”—
“Come, Louisiana soldiers, and listen to my Song,And if you’ll just be patient, I won’t detain you long:”—
“Come, Louisiana soldiers, and listen to my Song,
And if you’ll just be patient, I won’t detain you long:”—
Stonewall’s Sable Seers: By Mrs. C. A. Warfield. Beechmore, Oldham County, Kentucky. (E. V. M.)
“‘I’ll tell you wat, ole Cato,’Quoth Cuff by the bright camp fire,”—
“‘I’ll tell you wat, ole Cato,’Quoth Cuff by the bright camp fire,”—
“‘I’ll tell you wat, ole Cato,’Quoth Cuff by the bright camp fire,”—
“‘I’ll tell you wat, ole Cato,’
Quoth Cuff by the bright camp fire,”—
Story of the Merrimac: As told to the Watt’s Creek Picket. By Susan Archer Talley. Fort McHenry, April, 1862. (S. L. M., Sept. & Oct., 1862.)
“Calm was the earth and calm the air,And calm the water’s flow,”—
“Calm was the earth and calm the air,And calm the water’s flow,”—
“Calm was the earth and calm the air,And calm the water’s flow,”—
“Calm was the earth and calm the air,
And calm the water’s flow,”—
The Stranger’s Death: (E. V. M.)
“No mother bends with tender care,To kiss his burning brow,”—
“No mother bends with tender care,To kiss his burning brow,”—
“No mother bends with tender care,To kiss his burning brow,”—
“No mother bends with tender care,
To kiss his burning brow,”—
Strike for the South: (S. B. Liv.)
“Strike for the South! let her name ever beThe boast of the true and the brave,”—
“Strike for the South! let her name ever beThe boast of the true and the brave,”—
“Strike for the South! let her name ever beThe boast of the true and the brave,”—
“Strike for the South! let her name ever be
The boast of the true and the brave,”—
Stuart: By W. Winston Fontaine, of Virginia, May, 1864. (E. V. M.)
“Mourn, mourn along thy mountains high!Mourn, mourn along thine ocean wave!”—
“Mourn, mourn along thy mountains high!Mourn, mourn along thine ocean wave!”—
“Mourn, mourn along thy mountains high!Mourn, mourn along thine ocean wave!”—
“Mourn, mourn along thy mountains high!
Mourn, mourn along thine ocean wave!”—
Stuart: By Mrs. Henry J. Vose. (Fag.)
“Oh! mother of states and of men,Bend low thy queenly head,”—
“Oh! mother of states and of men,Bend low thy queenly head,”—
“Oh! mother of states and of men,Bend low thy queenly head,”—
“Oh! mother of states and of men,
Bend low thy queenly head,”—
Stuart: A Ballad: By Paul H. Hayne. (Amaranth from theSouthern Illustrated News.)
“A cup of your potent ‘mountain dew,’By the camp fire’s ruddy light”—
“A cup of your potent ‘mountain dew,’By the camp fire’s ruddy light”—
“A cup of your potent ‘mountain dew,’By the camp fire’s ruddy light”—
“A cup of your potent ‘mountain dew,’
By the camp fire’s ruddy light”—
The Substitutes: Dramatic Dialogue. By Paul H. Hayne. (Sunny from theSouthern Illustrated News.)
“How says’t thou? die tomorrow? Oh My Friend!The bitter, bitter doom!”—
“How says’t thou? die tomorrow? Oh My Friend!The bitter, bitter doom!”—
“How says’t thou? die tomorrow? Oh My Friend!The bitter, bitter doom!”—
“How says’t thou? die tomorrow? Oh My Friend!
The bitter, bitter doom!”—
Sumter: A Ballad of 1861: By E. O. Murden. (Bohemian from the CharlestonCourier.)
“’Twas on the twelfth of April,Before the break of day,”—
“’Twas on the twelfth of April,Before the break of day,”—
“’Twas on the twelfth of April,Before the break of day,”—
“’Twas on the twelfth of April,
Before the break of day,”—
Sumter In Ruins: By W. Gilmore Simms: (W. G. S. from the CharlestonMercury.)
“Ye batter down the lion’s den,But yet the lordly beast goes free;”—
“Ye batter down the lion’s den,But yet the lordly beast goes free;”—
“Ye batter down the lion’s den,But yet the lordly beast goes free;”—
“Ye batter down the lion’s den,
But yet the lordly beast goes free;”—
A Sunday Reverie: By James R. Randall. (E. V. M.)
“Beyond my dingy window-pane,This beaming Sunday morn,”—
“Beyond my dingy window-pane,This beaming Sunday morn,”—
“Beyond my dingy window-pane,This beaming Sunday morn,”—
“Beyond my dingy window-pane,
This beaming Sunday morn,”—
Sunny South: (R. B. B., 109.)
“To arms, to arms and old Abe shall see,That we have a Southern Confederacy,”—
“To arms, to arms and old Abe shall see,That we have a Southern Confederacy,”—
“To arms, to arms and old Abe shall see,That we have a Southern Confederacy,”—
“To arms, to arms and old Abe shall see,
That we have a Southern Confederacy,”—
Surrender of the A. N. Va., April 10, 1865: By Florence Anderson, Kentucky. (Amaranth.)
“Have we wept till our eyes were dim with tears,Have we borne the sorrows of four long years,”—
“Have we wept till our eyes were dim with tears,Have we borne the sorrows of four long years,”—
“Have we wept till our eyes were dim with tears,Have we borne the sorrows of four long years,”—
“Have we wept till our eyes were dim with tears,
Have we borne the sorrows of four long years,”—
Sweethearts and the War: (R. R.)
“Oh, dear! it’s shameful, I declare,To see the men all go,”—
“Oh, dear! it’s shameful, I declare,To see the men all go,”—
“Oh, dear! it’s shameful, I declare,To see the men all go,”—
“Oh, dear! it’s shameful, I declare,
To see the men all go,”—
The Sword of Harry Lee: By James D. McCabe, Jr. Vicksburg, Miss. (P. &. P. B.)
“An aged man all bowed with years,Sits by his hearthstone old,”—
“An aged man all bowed with years,Sits by his hearthstone old,”—
“An aged man all bowed with years,Sits by his hearthstone old,”—
“An aged man all bowed with years,
Sits by his hearthstone old,”—
The Sword of Robert Lee: Words by Moina [Rev. A. J. Ryan]. Music by Armand. (C. S. B.)
“Forth from its scabbard, pure and bright,Flashed the sword of Lee,”—
“Forth from its scabbard, pure and bright,Flashed the sword of Lee,”—
“Forth from its scabbard, pure and bright,Flashed the sword of Lee,”—
“Forth from its scabbard, pure and bright,
Flashed the sword of Lee,”—
Taking of Munson’s Hill, Virginia: (B. C. L., Ledger 1411.)
“One morning, just before the break of day,A Major called his men to march away,”—
“One morning, just before the break of day,A Major called his men to march away,”—
“One morning, just before the break of day,A Major called his men to march away,”—
“One morning, just before the break of day,
A Major called his men to march away,”—
Tear Down That Flag: By Theodore H. Hill. (Bohemian.)
“Tear down the flag of constellated stars!Blot out its field of blue!”—
“Tear down the flag of constellated stars!Blot out its field of blue!”—
“Tear down the flag of constellated stars!Blot out its field of blue!”—
“Tear down the flag of constellated stars!
Blot out its field of blue!”—
Tell the Boys the War is Ended: By Emily J. Moore. (W. G. S.)
“‘Tell the boys the war is ended,’—These were all the words he said,”—
“‘Tell the boys the war is ended,’—These were all the words he said,”—
“‘Tell the boys the war is ended,’—These were all the words he said,”—
“‘Tell the boys the war is ended,’—
These were all the words he said,”—
Tennessee! Fire Away: (Md. Hist. B.)
“Black Republican banditsHave crossed to our shore,”—
“Black Republican banditsHave crossed to our shore,”—
“Black Republican banditsHave crossed to our shore,”—
“Black Republican bandits
Have crossed to our shore,”—
Tennessee!Written forThe Avalanche. (Im.)
“Farewell, oh Union! once belovedSo tenderly by me;”—
“Farewell, oh Union! once belovedSo tenderly by me;”—
“Farewell, oh Union! once belovedSo tenderly by me;”—
“Farewell, oh Union! once beloved
So tenderly by me;”—
The Tennessee Exile’s Song: By P. V. P. (S. S.)
“I hear the rushing of her streams,The murmuring of her trees,”—
“I hear the rushing of her streams,The murmuring of her trees,”—
“I hear the rushing of her streams,The murmuring of her trees,”—
“I hear the rushing of her streams,
The murmuring of her trees,”—
Tennessee’s Noble Volunteers: (Randolph.)
“Brave men! thou’rt going forth to faceA bold unsulting foe”—
“Brave men! thou’rt going forth to faceA bold unsulting foe”—
“Brave men! thou’rt going forth to faceA bold unsulting foe”—
“Brave men! thou’rt going forth to face
A bold unsulting foe”—
Terry’s Texas Rangers: Air, “When the Swallows Homeward Fly.” By Estelle. (Alsb.)
“Where the battles fiercest rage, and the red blood thickest lies,Where the gauntlet and the gage are caught up ’neath burning skies,”—
“Where the battles fiercest rage, and the red blood thickest lies,Where the gauntlet and the gage are caught up ’neath burning skies,”—
“Where the battles fiercest rage, and the red blood thickest lies,Where the gauntlet and the gage are caught up ’neath burning skies,”—
“Where the battles fiercest rage, and the red blood thickest lies,
Where the gauntlet and the gage are caught up ’neath burning skies,”—
The Texan Marseillaise: By James Haines, of Texas. (W. G. S. from theSouthern Confederacy.)
“Sons of the South, arouse for battle!Gird on your armor for the fight!”—
“Sons of the South, arouse for battle!Gird on your armor for the fight!”—
“Sons of the South, arouse for battle!Gird on your armor for the fight!”—
“Sons of the South, arouse for battle!
Gird on your armor for the fight!”—
Texas and Virginia: Air, “Annie Laurie.” By Capt. P. M. Salor. (Alsb.)
“The Texas boys are valiant, their courage none deny,And for their country’s freedom they lay them down and die.”—
“The Texas boys are valiant, their courage none deny,And for their country’s freedom they lay them down and die.”—
“The Texas boys are valiant, their courage none deny,And for their country’s freedom they lay them down and die.”—
“The Texas boys are valiant, their courage none deny,
And for their country’s freedom they lay them down and die.”—
Texas Land!Air, “My Maryland.” By John Shearn, Esq., of Houston. (Alsb.)
“When first war’s clarions sounded loud,Texas land, Texas land,”—
“When first war’s clarions sounded loud,Texas land, Texas land,”—
“When first war’s clarions sounded loud,Texas land, Texas land,”—
“When first war’s clarions sounded loud,
Texas land, Texas land,”—
Texas Marseillaise: By G. B. Milnor. (Alsb.)
“O ye sons of Freedom! now arise!’Tis your Country that calls on you”—
“O ye sons of Freedom! now arise!’Tis your Country that calls on you”—
“O ye sons of Freedom! now arise!’Tis your Country that calls on you”—
“O ye sons of Freedom! now arise!
’Tis your Country that calls on you”—
The Texas Ranger: Air, “Dixie.” By R. R. Carpenter, Debray’s Regiment. (Alsb.)
“Away down South, where the Rio GrandeRolls its tides thro’ the post-oak sandy,”—
“Away down South, where the Rio GrandeRolls its tides thro’ the post-oak sandy,”—
“Away down South, where the Rio GrandeRolls its tides thro’ the post-oak sandy,”—
“Away down South, where the Rio Grande
Rolls its tides thro’ the post-oak sandy,”—
Texan Rangers: Published by M. Morgan, Galveston, Texas. Confederate States, 1861. (R. B. B., 112.)
“They come! they come! see their bayonets bright,They sparkle and flash across hollow and height,”—
“They come! they come! see their bayonets bright,They sparkle and flash across hollow and height,”—
“They come! they come! see their bayonets bright,They sparkle and flash across hollow and height,”—
“They come! they come! see their bayonets bright,
They sparkle and flash across hollow and height,”—
Texas Rangers at the Battle of Chickamauga—the Stream of Death: Dedicated to Capt. Dave Terry, of General Wharton’s staff. Air, “American Star.” (Alsb.)
“Stand firm, Texas Rangers! the foe is advancing,We’ll drive back the ruffians, or die on the field”—
“Stand firm, Texas Rangers! the foe is advancing,We’ll drive back the ruffians, or die on the field”—
“Stand firm, Texas Rangers! the foe is advancing,We’ll drive back the ruffians, or die on the field”—
“Stand firm, Texas Rangers! the foe is advancing,
We’ll drive back the ruffians, or die on the field”—
Texas Sentinel in Virginia: By G. B. Milnor. (Alsb.)
“Luna shone in royal splendor,Effulgent o’er the Texian tent”—
“Luna shone in royal splendor,Effulgent o’er the Texian tent”—
“Luna shone in royal splendor,Effulgent o’er the Texian tent”—
“Luna shone in royal splendor,
Effulgent o’er the Texian tent”—
The Texas Soldier Boy: By a lad fifteen years old, of the Arizona Brigade. (Alsb.)
“Come all you Texas soldiers, wherever you may be,I’ll tell you of some trouble that happened unto me”—
“Come all you Texas soldiers, wherever you may be,I’ll tell you of some trouble that happened unto me”—
“Come all you Texas soldiers, wherever you may be,I’ll tell you of some trouble that happened unto me”—
“Come all you Texas soldiers, wherever you may be,
I’ll tell you of some trouble that happened unto me”—
Texian Appeal: Air, “Bonnie Blue Flag.” By Col. Washington Hamilton. Cold Springs, Polk Co., Texas. (Alsb.)
“Dissevered from her sister states, begirt by foes around,And with her best and bravest bands afar on kindred ground,”—
“Dissevered from her sister states, begirt by foes around,And with her best and bravest bands afar on kindred ground,”—
“Dissevered from her sister states, begirt by foes around,And with her best and bravest bands afar on kindred ground,”—
“Dissevered from her sister states, begirt by foes around,
And with her best and bravest bands afar on kindred ground,”—
Texians, To Your Banner Fly: Air, “Scots wha’ hae.” By S. P. R. of Galveston, Texas. August 4, 1863. (Alsb.)
“Texians, to your banner fly,Texians, now your valor try,”—
“Texians, to your banner fly,Texians, now your valor try,”—
“Texians, to your banner fly,Texians, now your valor try,”—
“Texians, to your banner fly,
Texians, now your valor try,”—
Thanksgiving for Victory: Air, “The Watcher.” By Kentucky. (S. O. S.)
“Let the church bells anthems peal,Glad but low;”—
“Let the church bells anthems peal,Glad but low;”—
“Let the church bells anthems peal,Glad but low;”—
“Let the church bells anthems peal,
Glad but low;”—
That Bugler: Or the Upidee Song: As sung by the Washington Artillery, New Orleans, 1862. By Sergeant A. G. Knight, 2nd Co., Bat., Washington Artillery, New Orleans. (Alsb.)
“The shades of night were falling fast, tra-la-la-tra-la-la,The bugler blew that well known blast, tra-la-la-tra-la-la,”—
“The shades of night were falling fast, tra-la-la-tra-la-la,The bugler blew that well known blast, tra-la-la-tra-la-la,”—
“The shades of night were falling fast, tra-la-la-tra-la-la,The bugler blew that well known blast, tra-la-la-tra-la-la,”—
“The shades of night were falling fast, tra-la-la-tra-la-la,
The bugler blew that well known blast, tra-la-la-tra-la-la,”—
Them Saucy Masked Batteries: Air, “Bobbin Around.” (R. B. B., 112.)
“The Yankee soldiers went down south,Bobbin around,”—
“The Yankee soldiers went down south,Bobbin around,”—
“The Yankee soldiers went down south,Bobbin around,”—
“The Yankee soldiers went down south,
Bobbin around,”—
Then and Now: Written on returning to my home which had been burned and desolated by Sherman’s army. By J. C. J. (W. L.)
“I saw a scene at sunrise,A year or two ago,”—
“I saw a scene at sunrise,A year or two ago,”—
“I saw a scene at sunrise,A year or two ago,”—
“I saw a scene at sunrise,
A year or two ago,”—
There is Life in Old Maryland Yet: By Cola. Baltimore, March 25, 1862. (R. B. B. 75.)
“Again a smothered voice speaks out,In accents bold and strong,”—
“Again a smothered voice speaks out,In accents bold and strong,”—
“Again a smothered voice speaks out,In accents bold and strong,”—
“Again a smothered voice speaks out,
In accents bold and strong,”—
There is No Peace: By G. B. S. Cottage Home, 1865. (W. L.)
“They tell us that glad Peace once more has smiled,Upon this land from out the summer sky;”—
“They tell us that glad Peace once more has smiled,Upon this land from out the summer sky;”—
“They tell us that glad Peace once more has smiled,Upon this land from out the summer sky;”—
“They tell us that glad Peace once more has smiled,
Upon this land from out the summer sky;”—
There is Nothing Going Wrong: Dedicated to Old Abe. By A. M. W. New Orleans, March 4, 1861. (R. R.)
“There’s a general alarm.The South’s begun to arm”—
“There’s a general alarm.The South’s begun to arm”—
“There’s a general alarm.The South’s begun to arm”—
“There’s a general alarm.
The South’s begun to arm”—
There’s Life in the Old Land Yet: By J. B. Baltimore, March 25, 1862. (R. B. B., 77½.)
“There’s life in the land that gave Carroll his birth,Its presence is felt throughout the wise earth”—
“There’s life in the land that gave Carroll his birth,Its presence is felt throughout the wise earth”—
“There’s life in the land that gave Carroll his birth,Its presence is felt throughout the wise earth”—
“There’s life in the land that gave Carroll his birth,
Its presence is felt throughout the wise earth”—
There’s Life in the Old Land Yet: By Frank Key Howard. (S. S.)
“Through the soil of old Maryland echoes the treadOf an insolent soldiery now”—
“Through the soil of old Maryland echoes the treadOf an insolent soldiery now”—
“Through the soil of old Maryland echoes the treadOf an insolent soldiery now”—
“Through the soil of old Maryland echoes the tread
Of an insolent soldiery now”—
There’s Life in the Old Land Yet: Words by James R. Randall. (Music by Edward O. Eaton.) (C. S. B. from the New OrleansDelta, September 1, 1861.)
“By blue Patapsco’s billowy dashThe tyrant’s war-shout comes,”—
“By blue Patapsco’s billowy dashThe tyrant’s war-shout comes,”—
“By blue Patapsco’s billowy dashThe tyrant’s war-shout comes,”—
“By blue Patapsco’s billowy dash
The tyrant’s war-shout comes,”—
There’s Nobody Hurt: (R. B. B., 111.)
“There lives a man in Washington,A narrow-minded squirt,”—
“There lives a man in Washington,A narrow-minded squirt,”—
“There lives a man in Washington,A narrow-minded squirt,”—
“There lives a man in Washington,
A narrow-minded squirt,”—
They Are Not Dead: By Fanny Downing. 1865. (C. C.)
“They are not dead! they do but keepThat vigil, which shall never know,”—
“They are not dead! they do but keepThat vigil, which shall never know,”—
“They are not dead! they do but keepThat vigil, which shall never know,”—
“They are not dead! they do but keep
That vigil, which shall never know,”—
They Cry Peace, Peace, When There is No Peace: By Mrs. Alethea S. Burroughs, of Georgia. (W. G. S. from a Charleston Broadside.)
“They are ringing peace on my heavy ear—No peace to my heavy heart!”—
“They are ringing peace on my heavy ear—No peace to my heavy heart!”—
“They are ringing peace on my heavy ear—No peace to my heavy heart!”—
“They are ringing peace on my heavy ear—
No peace to my heavy heart!”—
Thinking of the Soldiers: November 24, 1861. (R. R. from the RichmondDispatch.)
“We were sitting around the tableJust a night or two ago”—
“We were sitting around the tableJust a night or two ago”—
“We were sitting around the tableJust a night or two ago”—
“We were sitting around the table
Just a night or two ago”—
The Thirty-Seventh Congress: By Kentucky. (S. O. S.)
“Now, isn’t this Congress of ours something rare?It wants to see how much poor fools can bear”—
“Now, isn’t this Congress of ours something rare?It wants to see how much poor fools can bear”—
“Now, isn’t this Congress of ours something rare?It wants to see how much poor fools can bear”—
“Now, isn’t this Congress of ours something rare?
It wants to see how much poor fools can bear”—
Thou and I: By Fanny Downing. (E. V. M., ’69.)
“Dewy night has fallen, love!All around lies hushed in sleep”—
“Dewy night has fallen, love!All around lies hushed in sleep”—
“Dewy night has fallen, love!All around lies hushed in sleep”—
“Dewy night has fallen, love!
All around lies hushed in sleep”—
Thou Art Dead, My Mother!By Gen. M. Jefferson Thompson. (Sunny.)
“I’ve stood ’mid many a battle blast,And braved the shock of charging horse,”—
“I’ve stood ’mid many a battle blast,And braved the shock of charging horse,”—
“I’ve stood ’mid many a battle blast,And braved the shock of charging horse,”—
“I’ve stood ’mid many a battle blast,
And braved the shock of charging horse,”—
Three Cheers for Our Jack Morgan: By Eugene Raymond. (J. M. S.)
“The snow is in the cloud,And night is gathering o’er us”—
“The snow is in the cloud,And night is gathering o’er us”—
“The snow is in the cloud,And night is gathering o’er us”—
“The snow is in the cloud,
And night is gathering o’er us”—
The Times: Inscribed to all “God’s Freemen.” By Kate. Fairfax Court House, Va. (R. R.)
“Come, list to my song,It will not be long,”—
“Come, list to my song,It will not be long,”—
“Come, list to my song,It will not be long,”—
“Come, list to my song,
It will not be long,”—
’Tis Midnight in the Southern Sky: By Mrs. M. J. Young. (Alsb.)
“’Tis midnight in the Southern sky—See the starry cross decline!”—
“’Tis midnight in the Southern sky—See the starry cross decline!”—
“’Tis midnight in the Southern sky—See the starry cross decline!”—
“’Tis midnight in the Southern sky—
See the starry cross decline!”—
To A Company of Volunteers—Receiving Their Banner at the Hands of the Ladies: By Cora. (S. L. M., July, 1861.)
“Soldiers, hail, ye gallant band,Marshalled at your Country’s call,”—
“Soldiers, hail, ye gallant band,Marshalled at your Country’s call,”—
“Soldiers, hail, ye gallant band,Marshalled at your Country’s call,”—
“Soldiers, hail, ye gallant band,
Marshalled at your Country’s call,”—
To a Dear Comforter: By B. H. Jones. (Sunny.)
“Musing o’er my gloomy fortune—Thinking of a world so drear”—
“Musing o’er my gloomy fortune—Thinking of a world so drear”—
“Musing o’er my gloomy fortune—Thinking of a world so drear”—
“Musing o’er my gloomy fortune—
Thinking of a world so drear”—
To A Mocking Bird: On being waked by its song, near the camp, in the dusk of morning. By E. F. W. (Amaranth, from theSouthern Illustrated News.)
“Sweet bird that thrill’st with early noteThe hedge-row charred and sere,”—
“Sweet bird that thrill’st with early noteThe hedge-row charred and sere,”—
“Sweet bird that thrill’st with early noteThe hedge-row charred and sere,”—
“Sweet bird that thrill’st with early note
The hedge-row charred and sere,”—
The Toast of Morgan’s Men: By Capt. Thorpe, of Kentucky. (E. V. M.)
“Unclaimed in the land that bore us,Lost in the land we find,”—
“Unclaimed in the land that bore us,Lost in the land we find,”—
“Unclaimed in the land that bore us,Lost in the land we find,”—
“Unclaimed in the land that bore us,
Lost in the land we find,”—
A Toast to Virginia: Tune: “Red, White and Blue.” (R. B. B., 113.)
“A toast to Virginia, God bless her!The Mother of heroes and states!”—
“A toast to Virginia, God bless her!The Mother of heroes and states!”—
“A toast to Virginia, God bless her!The Mother of heroes and states!”—
“A toast to Virginia, God bless her!
The Mother of heroes and states!”—
To Brother Jonathan, on the Dictatorship of Abe Lincoln: By J. I. R., of Richmond. (S. L. M., Ed. Table, April, ’63.)
“Oh, Jonathan! you little thought, when all your hills, and valesRang with the cheers for ‘Honest Abe,’ the splitter of the rails,”—
“Oh, Jonathan! you little thought, when all your hills, and valesRang with the cheers for ‘Honest Abe,’ the splitter of the rails,”—
“Oh, Jonathan! you little thought, when all your hills, and valesRang with the cheers for ‘Honest Abe,’ the splitter of the rails,”—
“Oh, Jonathan! you little thought, when all your hills, and vales
Rang with the cheers for ‘Honest Abe,’ the splitter of the rails,”—
To Colonel John H. Morgan, 2d Regiment, Kentucky Cavalry: By Kentucky. (S. O. S.)
“Our hero-chief, Kentucky’s pride,To whom she gladly doth confide”—
“Our hero-chief, Kentucky’s pride,To whom she gladly doth confide”—
“Our hero-chief, Kentucky’s pride,To whom she gladly doth confide”—
“Our hero-chief, Kentucky’s pride,
To whom she gladly doth confide”—
To Exchange-Commissioner Ould: By Major George McKnight. “Asa Hartz.” (Sunny.)
“Dear Uncle Bob: I fear your headHas gone a-thinking I am dead;”—
“Dear Uncle Bob: I fear your headHas gone a-thinking I am dead;”—
“Dear Uncle Bob: I fear your headHas gone a-thinking I am dead;”—
“Dear Uncle Bob: I fear your head
Has gone a-thinking I am dead;”—
To General Beauregard: By Kentucky. (S. O. S.)
“Rouse thee my sad hero! rouse thee now to the fray!In the Yankee ranks scatter wild fear and dismay”—
“Rouse thee my sad hero! rouse thee now to the fray!In the Yankee ranks scatter wild fear and dismay”—
“Rouse thee my sad hero! rouse thee now to the fray!In the Yankee ranks scatter wild fear and dismay”—
“Rouse thee my sad hero! rouse thee now to the fray!
In the Yankee ranks scatter wild fear and dismay”—
To General Winfield Scott: By William H. Holcombe, Waterproof, Louisiana, August, 1861. (S. L. M., Sept. ’61.)
“Old Man! I pity thee; but not because,Too shallow for deep thought and falsely great,”—
“Old Man! I pity thee; but not because,Too shallow for deep thought and falsely great,”—
“Old Man! I pity thee; but not because,Too shallow for deep thought and falsely great,”—
“Old Man! I pity thee; but not because,
Too shallow for deep thought and falsely great,”—
To Go or Not to Go: By Exempt. (Hubner.)
“To go or not to go! that is the question,Whether it pays best to suffer pestering”—
“To go or not to go! that is the question,Whether it pays best to suffer pestering”—
“To go or not to go! that is the question,Whether it pays best to suffer pestering”—
“To go or not to go! that is the question,
Whether it pays best to suffer pestering”—
To Him: Who was our President, and who is and ever will be our honored and beloved. By Fanny Downing. (E. V. M., ’69.)
“From out your prison by the sea,Your thoughts at least may wander free,”—
“From out your prison by the sea,Your thoughts at least may wander free,”—
“From out your prison by the sea,Your thoughts at least may wander free,”—
“From out your prison by the sea,
Your thoughts at least may wander free,”—
To Johnston’s Name: In Memory of General A. S. Johnston. Air, “Roy’s Wife of Aldavallach.” By Judge Tod Robinson, of California. (Alsb.)
“We’ll stop the flow of festive mirth—From social joys a moment borrow”—
“We’ll stop the flow of festive mirth—From social joys a moment borrow”—
“We’ll stop the flow of festive mirth—From social joys a moment borrow”—
“We’ll stop the flow of festive mirth—
From social joys a moment borrow”—
To Kentuckians: On the Dispersion of the Convention at Frankfort, by Col. Gilbert. (W. L.)
“If in your ‘ashes live their unwonted fires,’If ye are sons of your heroic sires”—
“If in your ‘ashes live their unwonted fires,’If ye are sons of your heroic sires”—
“If in your ‘ashes live their unwonted fires,’If ye are sons of your heroic sires”—
“If in your ‘ashes live their unwonted fires,’
If ye are sons of your heroic sires”—
To Kentucky: By an advocate of State’s Rights. By Kentucky. (S. O. S.)
“I lay my hand upon thy breast,They who strike thee must pierce me first”—
“I lay my hand upon thy breast,They who strike thee must pierce me first”—
“I lay my hand upon thy breast,They who strike thee must pierce me first”—
“I lay my hand upon thy breast,
They who strike thee must pierce me first”—
Toll and Peal: To the Memory of Charles D. Dreux: By Mrs. Marie B. Williams. (E. V. M., ’69.)
“Toll for the warrior! toll!A requiem sad, yet high”—
“Toll for the warrior! toll!A requiem sad, yet high”—
“Toll for the warrior! toll!A requiem sad, yet high”—
“Toll for the warrior! toll!
A requiem sad, yet high”—
To Madame Therese Pulsky: Who with her husband, followed General Kossuth in his Exile. By Kentucky. (S. O. S.)
“I’m gazing on the pleasant face,And thinking of the time,”—
“I’m gazing on the pleasant face,And thinking of the time,”—
“I’m gazing on the pleasant face,And thinking of the time,”—
“I’m gazing on the pleasant face,
And thinking of the time,”—
To Maryland—Friends are Nigh: By William Gilmore Simms. (Bohemian.)
“Friends are nigh; despair not,Though fast in the despot’s chain!”—
“Friends are nigh; despair not,Though fast in the despot’s chain!”—
“Friends are nigh; despair not,Though fast in the despot’s chain!”—
“Friends are nigh; despair not,
Though fast in the despot’s chain!”—
To Miss ——, of Virginia: By Stella. Alabama, August 1, 1866. (E. V. M.)
“Hail gentle patron of our stricken land!Thrice welcome to our ever grateful shore;”—
“Hail gentle patron of our stricken land!Thrice welcome to our ever grateful shore;”—
“Hail gentle patron of our stricken land!Thrice welcome to our ever grateful shore;”—
“Hail gentle patron of our stricken land!
Thrice welcome to our ever grateful shore;”—
To Miss C. P. B. of Athens, Tennessee: By Col. B. H. Jones. Johnson’s Island, July, 1865. (Sunny.)
“Musing lonely, sadly musing,Is my Island prison drear,”—
“Musing lonely, sadly musing,Is my Island prison drear,”—
“Musing lonely, sadly musing,Is my Island prison drear,”—
“Musing lonely, sadly musing,
Is my Island prison drear,”—
To Miss K. A. S. of Alexandria, Virginia: By Col. B. H. Jones. (Sunny.)
“Maiden, through death’s gloomy portal,In the far cerulean blue,”—
“Maiden, through death’s gloomy portal,In the far cerulean blue,”—
“Maiden, through death’s gloomy portal,In the far cerulean blue,”—
“Maiden, through death’s gloomy portal,
In the far cerulean blue,”—
To Mr. Lincoln: (Randolph.)
“Old honest Abe, you are a babe,In military glory;”—
“Old honest Abe, you are a babe,In military glory;”—
“Old honest Abe, you are a babe,In military glory;”—
“Old honest Abe, you are a babe,
In military glory;”—
To Mr. Vallandigham: By Kentucky. (S. O. S.)
“O Chatham of our day, to thee I turnWhile my sick heart with freshened strength doth burn,”—
“O Chatham of our day, to thee I turnWhile my sick heart with freshened strength doth burn,”—
“O Chatham of our day, to thee I turnWhile my sick heart with freshened strength doth burn,”—
“O Chatham of our day, to thee I turn
While my sick heart with freshened strength doth burn,”—
To Mrs. Rosanna Osterman: By Col. A. M. Hobby. (Alsb.)
“Amidst the deep corruption of the age,Where Vice and Folly universal rage,”—
“Amidst the deep corruption of the age,Where Vice and Folly universal rage,”—
“Amidst the deep corruption of the age,Where Vice and Folly universal rage,”—
“Amidst the deep corruption of the age,
Where Vice and Folly universal rage,”—
To My Soldier Brother: By Sallie E. Ballard of Texas. (W. G. S.)
“When softly gathering shades of ev’n,Creep o’er the prairies broad and green,”—
“When softly gathering shades of ev’n,Creep o’er the prairies broad and green,”—
“When softly gathering shades of ev’n,Creep o’er the prairies broad and green,”—
“When softly gathering shades of ev’n,
Creep o’er the prairies broad and green,”—
To My Soldier: May God Love Thee, My Beloved, May God Love Thee!(S. L. M., Ed. Table. April, ’63.)
“Warm from my bosom I send you this,Deep in my heart these thoughts were nursed,”—
“Warm from my bosom I send you this,Deep in my heart these thoughts were nursed,”—
“Warm from my bosom I send you this,Deep in my heart these thoughts were nursed,”—
“Warm from my bosom I send you this,
Deep in my heart these thoughts were nursed,”—
To My Sons in Virginia: (Randolph.)
“My children, I have sent ye forthTo battle for the right”—
“My children, I have sent ye forthTo battle for the right”—
“My children, I have sent ye forthTo battle for the right”—
“My children, I have sent ye forth
To battle for the right”—
To Our Dead of New Hope: Corporal W. H. Brunet and Private R. A. Beidgens. By F. B. Kennesaw Ridge, June 16, 1864. (W. F.)
“They sleep the deep sleep ’neath the sanctified sod,Made holy by patriot gore;”—
“They sleep the deep sleep ’neath the sanctified sod,Made holy by patriot gore;”—
“They sleep the deep sleep ’neath the sanctified sod,Made holy by patriot gore;”—
“They sleep the deep sleep ’neath the sanctified sod,
Made holy by patriot gore;”—
Too Young to Die: By John B. Smith, Nashville, Tennessee, December, ’64. (E. V. M., ’69.)
“On the hard fought field where the battle stormHad echoed its sullen thunder,”—
“On the hard fought field where the battle stormHad echoed its sullen thunder,”—
“On the hard fought field where the battle stormHad echoed its sullen thunder,”—
“On the hard fought field where the battle storm
Had echoed its sullen thunder,”—
The Tories of Virginia: (R. R. from the RichmondExaminer.)
“In the ages gone by, when Virginia aroseHer honor and truth to maintain,”—
“In the ages gone by, when Virginia aroseHer honor and truth to maintain,”—
“In the ages gone by, when Virginia aroseHer honor and truth to maintain,”—
“In the ages gone by, when Virginia arose
Her honor and truth to maintain,”—
To Sauerwein: Air, “My Maryland.” By a Member of the Baltimore Corn Exchange. Baltimore, June, 1862. (R. B. B., 86.)
“The Union men have left the flourSauerwein! Poor ‘Sour Wine’”—
“The Union men have left the flourSauerwein! Poor ‘Sour Wine’”—
“The Union men have left the flourSauerwein! Poor ‘Sour Wine’”—
“The Union men have left the flour
Sauerwein! Poor ‘Sour Wine’”—
To the Baltimore Poet—Thomas H. M-rr-s: Author of “How They Act in Baltimore.” By Mephistopheles K. G. S. Baltimore, June 10, 1862. (R. B. B., 86.)
“So Tom has turned a poet, what a dearDull, stupid trait’rous ass’”—
“So Tom has turned a poet, what a dearDull, stupid trait’rous ass’”—
“So Tom has turned a poet, what a dearDull, stupid trait’rous ass’”—
“So Tom has turned a poet, what a dear
Dull, stupid trait’rous ass’”—
To the Beloved Memory of Major General Tom Green: By Captain Edwin Hobby. Galveston, May 28, 1864. (Alsb.)
“In the land of the orange groves, sunshine and flowers,Is heard the funereal tread,”—
“In the land of the orange groves, sunshine and flowers,Is heard the funereal tread,”—
“In the land of the orange groves, sunshine and flowers,Is heard the funereal tread,”—
“In the land of the orange groves, sunshine and flowers,
Is heard the funereal tread,”—
To the Confederate Dead: By Col. W. W. Fontaine. Johnson’s Island, June, 1863. (Sunny.)
“Comrades, sleep your sleep of glory,In your narrow soldier graves,”—
“Comrades, sleep your sleep of glory,In your narrow soldier graves,”—
“Comrades, sleep your sleep of glory,In your narrow soldier graves,”—
“Comrades, sleep your sleep of glory,
In your narrow soldier graves,”—
To the Confederate Flag Over Our State House: Air, “Oh, saw ye the lass?” By Kentucky. September 6, 1862. (S. O. S.)
“Float proudly o’er Frankfort, thou flag of my heart!The dread of oppressors and hirelings thou art,”—
“Float proudly o’er Frankfort, thou flag of my heart!The dread of oppressors and hirelings thou art,”—
“Float proudly o’er Frankfort, thou flag of my heart!The dread of oppressors and hirelings thou art,”—
“Float proudly o’er Frankfort, thou flag of my heart!
The dread of oppressors and hirelings thou art,”—
To the Congress of the C. S. A.: With the design of a Flag. [By C. B. Northrup]. (Outcast.)
“Dishonor not our great and ancient flag,That banner which, through fields of blood,”—
“Dishonor not our great and ancient flag,That banner which, through fields of blood,”—
“Dishonor not our great and ancient flag,That banner which, through fields of blood,”—
“Dishonor not our great and ancient flag,
That banner which, through fields of blood,”—
To the Davis Guards: By Lt. W. P. Cunningham. (Alsb.)
“Soldiers! raise your banner proudly,Let it pierce our Texan sky”—
“Soldiers! raise your banner proudly,Let it pierce our Texan sky”—
“Soldiers! raise your banner proudly,Let it pierce our Texan sky”—
“Soldiers! raise your banner proudly,
Let it pierce our Texan sky”—
To the Front: By James Barron Hope. (Bohemian.)
“Hark! now I hear the distant fire,Our pickets on the line return”—
“Hark! now I hear the distant fire,Our pickets on the line return”—
“Hark! now I hear the distant fire,Our pickets on the line return”—
“Hark! now I hear the distant fire,
Our pickets on the line return”—
To the Governor of Ohio: Dedicated to Lieut. T. Bullitt, 2d Reg., Ky. Cavalry. By Kentucky. (S. O. S.)
“Put them in a convict’s cell!That’s the worst that you can do!”—
“Put them in a convict’s cell!That’s the worst that you can do!”—
“Put them in a convict’s cell!That’s the worst that you can do!”—
“Put them in a convict’s cell!
That’s the worst that you can do!”—
To the Ladies of Baltimore: By Mrs. Bettie C. Locke. Shenandoah Valley, May, 1866. (E. V. M.)
“For those so fair and kind and true, who felt for others grief,We of the South would now entwine fame’s bright undying wreath!”—
“For those so fair and kind and true, who felt for others grief,We of the South would now entwine fame’s bright undying wreath!”—
“For those so fair and kind and true, who felt for others grief,We of the South would now entwine fame’s bright undying wreath!”—
“For those so fair and kind and true, who felt for others grief,
We of the South would now entwine fame’s bright undying wreath!”—
To the Ladies of Virginia: By Col. W. W. Fontaine. (Sunny.)
“Mothers, wives and maidens fair!Mournful, with disheveled hair,”—
“Mothers, wives and maidens fair!Mournful, with disheveled hair,”—
“Mothers, wives and maidens fair!Mournful, with disheveled hair,”—
“Mothers, wives and maidens fair!
Mournful, with disheveled hair,”—
To the Maryland Sons of Revolutionary Sires!Dedicated to Miss M. H. Air, “Auld Lang Syne.” (R. B. B., 77.)
“Ye sons of Sires, of manly deeds, who died for love of right,Again the despot spoils your lands and justice bids you fight”—
“Ye sons of Sires, of manly deeds, who died for love of right,Again the despot spoils your lands and justice bids you fight”—
“Ye sons of Sires, of manly deeds, who died for love of right,Again the despot spoils your lands and justice bids you fight”—
“Ye sons of Sires, of manly deeds, who died for love of right,
Again the despot spoils your lands and justice bids you fight”—
To the Memory of Col. Thos. S. Lubbock: Dedicated to Gov. E. F. R. Lubbock. By Col. Alfred M. Hobby. (Alsb.)
“Drape in gloom our Southern Ensign! Gently fold its crimson bars,While cypress wreaths around it twine, and dim with tears its burningstars”—
“Drape in gloom our Southern Ensign! Gently fold its crimson bars,While cypress wreaths around it twine, and dim with tears its burningstars”—
“Drape in gloom our Southern Ensign! Gently fold its crimson bars,While cypress wreaths around it twine, and dim with tears its burningstars”—
“Drape in gloom our Southern Ensign! Gently fold its crimson bars,
While cypress wreaths around it twine, and dim with tears its burning
stars”—
To the Memory of General Thomas S. Jackson: By K., White’s Battalion, May 17, 1863. (Private Mss.)
“Give me the death of thoseWho for their country die”—
“Give me the death of thoseWho for their country die”—
“Give me the death of thoseWho for their country die”—
“Give me the death of those
Who for their country die”—
To the Memory of Jackson of Alexandria, Virginia: Air, “Scots wha’ hae wi Wallace bled.” By Andrew Devilbiss. (Wash’n 91.)
“Here’s to Jackson brave and true,Whom the base invaders slew,”—
“Here’s to Jackson brave and true,Whom the base invaders slew,”—
“Here’s to Jackson brave and true,Whom the base invaders slew,”—
“Here’s to Jackson brave and true,
Whom the base invaders slew,”—
To the Parents of the Youthful Patriot, Melzar G. Fiske, who fell mortally wounded at the battle of Malvern Hill, near Richmond, July 1, 1862. By their friend and Pastor, Rev. I. W. K. Handy, D. D. (S. L. M., Ed. Table, March, ’63.)
“Father! Mother! dry your tears;Cease your noble boy to mourn,”—
“Father! Mother! dry your tears;Cease your noble boy to mourn,”—
“Father! Mother! dry your tears;Cease your noble boy to mourn,”—
“Father! Mother! dry your tears;
Cease your noble boy to mourn,”—
To The Rappahannock: By James D. Blackwell. (E. V. M., ’69.)
“Flow on, thou bright river, flow on to the deep,And soothe with thy murmurs the dead in their sleep”—
“Flow on, thou bright river, flow on to the deep,And soothe with thy murmurs the dead in their sleep”—
“Flow on, thou bright river, flow on to the deep,And soothe with thy murmurs the dead in their sleep”—
“Flow on, thou bright river, flow on to the deep,
And soothe with thy murmurs the dead in their sleep”—
To The Sons of the Sunny South: Written by a lad only twelve or thirteen years old. March 20, 1862. (S. L. M., Ed. Table, April, ’62.)
“O that I were a man, that I could grasp the sword,By love of country and high hopes of victory lured,”—
“O that I were a man, that I could grasp the sword,By love of country and high hopes of victory lured,”—
“O that I were a man, that I could grasp the sword,By love of country and high hopes of victory lured,”—
“O that I were a man, that I could grasp the sword,
By love of country and high hopes of victory lured,”—
To the Southern Cross: By Henry C. Alexander. (S. L. M., August, ’63.)