Part 2

They smile while the dart deeply pierces their heart, But each eye flashes back the war-glance, As they watch the brave file march up with a smile, 'Neath their flag--with their muskets and lance; The cannon's loud roar vibrates on the shore, _But the people are quiet to-day_, As, startled, they see how fearless and free March the companies--Ordered away.

Not a quiver or gleam of fear can be seen, Though they go to meet death in disguise; For the hot air is filled with poison distilled 'Neath the rays of fair Florida's skies. Hark! the drum and fife awake to new life The soldiers who--"Can't get away;" Who _wish_, as they wave their hats to the brave, That _they_ were the--Ordered away.

As _our_ parting grows near, let us quell back the tear, Let our smiles shine as bright as of yore; Let us stand with the mass, salute as they pass, And weep when we see them no more. Let no tear-drop or sigh dim the light of our eye, Or move from our lips, as they say-- While waving our hand to a brave little band-- Good-by to the--Ordered away.

Let them go, in God's name, in defense of their _fame_, Brave death at the cannon's wide mouth; Let them honor and save the land of the brave, Plant Freedom's bright flag in the _South_. Let them go! While we weep, and lone vigils keep, We will bless them, and fervently pray To the God whom we trust, for our cause firm but just, And our loved ones--the Ordered away.

When fierce battles storm, we will rise up each morn, Teach our young sons the saber to wield: Should their brave fathers die, we will arm _them_ to fly And fill up the gap in the field. Then, fathers and brothers, fond husbands and lovers, March! march bravely on! _We_ will stay, Alone in our sorrow, to pray on each morrow For our loved ones--the Ordered away.

AUGUSTA, GA., _April 2, 1861_.

THE MARTYR OF ALEXANDRIA.

BY JAMES W. SIMMONS.

Revealed, as in a lightning flash, A Hero stood! The invading foe, the trumpet's crash, Set up his blood!

High o'er the sacred pile that bends Those forms above, Thy Star, O Freedom! brightly blends Its rays with Love.

The banner of a mighty race Serenely there Unfurls--the genius of the place, And haunted air!

A vow is registered in heaven-- Patriot! 'twas thine To guard those matchless colors, given By hand divine.

Jackson! thy spirit may not hear The wail ascend! A nation bends above thy bier, And mourns its friend.

Thy example is thy monument; In organ tones Thy name resounds, with glory blent, Prouder than thrones!

And they whose loss has been our gain-- A People's care Shall win their hearts from pain, And wipe the tear.

When time shall set the captive free, Now scathed by wrath, Heirs of his immortality, Bright be their path.

INDIANOLA, TEXAS.

DIXIE.

_Southrons, hear your Country call you!_

BY ALBERT PIKE.

Southrons, hear your Country call you! Up! lest worse than death befall you! To arms! To arms! To arms! in Dixie! Lo! all the beacon-fires are lighted, Let all hearts be now united!

To arms! To arms! To arms! in Dixie! Advance the flag of Dixie! Hurrah! hurrah! For Dixie's land we take our stand, And live or die for Dixie! To arms! To arms! And conquer peace for Dixie! To arms! To arms! And conquer peace for Dixie!

Hear the Northern thunders mutter! Northern flags in South wind flutter; To arms, etc., Advance the flag of Dixie! etc.

Fear no danger! Shun no labor! Lift up rifle, pike, and saber! To arms, etc. Shoulder pressing close to shoulder, Let the odds make each heart bolder! To arms, etc. Advance the flag of Dixie! etc.

How the South's great heart rejoices, At your cannons' ringing voices; To arms! etc. For faith betrayed and pledges broken, Wrongs inflicted, insults spoken; To arms! etc. Advance the flag of Dixie! etc.

Strong as lions, swift as eagles, Back to their kennels hunt these beagles; To arms! etc. Cut the unequal words asunder! Let them then each other plunder! To arms! etc. Advance the flag of Dixie! etc.

Swear upon your country's altar, Never to submit or falter! To arms! etc. Till the spoilers are defeated, Till the Lord's work is completed. To arms! etc. Advance the flag of Dixie! etc.

Halt not till our Federation Secures among Earth's Powers its station! To arms! etc. Then at peace, and crowned with glory, Hear your children tell the story! To arms! etc. Advance the flag of Dixie! etc.

If the loved ones weep in sadness, Victory soon shall bring them gladness: To arms! etc. Exultant pride soon banish sorrow; Smiles chase tears away to-morrow. To arms! etc. Advance the flag of Dixie! etc.

THE RIGHT ABOVE THE WRONG.

BY JOHN W OVERALL.

In other days our fathers' love was loyal, full, and free, For those they left behind them in the Island of the Sea; They fought the battles of King George, and toasted him in song, For them the Right kept proudly down the tyranny of Wrong.

But when the King's weak, willing slaves laid tax upon the tea, The Western men rose up and braved the Island of the Sea; And swore a fearful oath to God, those men of iron might, That in the end the Wrong should die, and up should go the Right.

The King sent over hireling hosts--Briton, Hessian, Scot-- And swore in turn those Western men, when captured, should be shot; While Chatham spoke with earnest tongue against the hireling throng, And mournfully saw the Right go down, and place give to the Wrong.

But God was on the righteous side, and Gideon's sword was out, With clash of steel, and rattling drum, and freeman's thunder-shout; And crimson torrents drenched the land through that long, stormy fight, But in the end, hurrah! the Wrong was beaten by the Right!

And when again the foemen came from out the Northern Sea, To desolate our smiling land and subjugate the free, Our fathers rushed to drive them back, with rifles keen and long, And swore a mighty oath, the Right should subjugate the Wrong.

And while the world was looking on, the strife uncertain grew, But soon aloft rose up our stars amid a field of blue; For Jackson fought on red Chalmette, and won the glorious fight, And then the Wrong went down, hurrah! and triumph crowned the Right!

The day has come again, when men who love the beauteous South, To speak, if needs be, for the Right, though by the cannon's mouth; For foes accursed of God and man, with lying speech and song, Would bind, imprison, hang the Right, and deify the Wrong.

But canting knave of pen and sword, nor sanctimonious fool, Shall ever win this Southern land, to cripple, bind, and rule; We'll muster on each bloody plain, thick as the stars of night, And, through the help of God, the Wrong shall perish by the Right.

_New Orleans True Delta._

TO MY SOLDIER BROTHER.

BY SALLIE E. BALLARD.

When softly gathering shades of ev'n Creep o'er the prairies broad and green, And countless stars bespangle heav'n, And fringe the clouds with silv'ry sheen, My fondest sigh to thee is giv'n, My lonely wand'ring soldier-boy; And thoughts of thee Steal over me Like ev'ning shades, my soldier boy.

My brother, though thou'rt far away, And dangers hurtle round thy path, And battle lightnings o'er thee play, And thunders peal in awful wrath, Think, whilst thou'rt in the hot affray, Thy sister prays for thee, my boy. If fondest prayer Can shield thee there, Sweet angels guard my soldier boy.

Thy proud young heart is beating high To clash of arms and cannons' roar; That firm set lip and flashing eye Tell how thy heart is brimming o'er. Be free and live, be free or die! Be that thy motto now, my boy; And though thy name's Unknown to fame's 'Tis graven on my heart, my boy.

THE SOUTH IN ARMS.

BY REV. J. H. MARTIN.

Oh! see ye not the sight sublime, Unequaled in all previous time, Presented in this Southern clime, The home of chivalry?

A warlike race of freemen stand, With martial front and sword in hand, Defenders of their native land,-- The sons of Liberty.

Unawed by numbers, they defy The tyrant North, nor will they fly, Resolved to conquer or to die, And win a glorious name.

Sprung from renowned heroic sires, Inflamed with patriotic fires, Their bosoms burn with fierce desires, They thirst for victory.

'Tis not the love of bloody strife, The horrid sacrifice of life, But thoughts of mother, sister, wife, That stir their manly hearts.

A sense of honor bids them go, To meet a hireling, ruthless foe, And deal in wrath the deadly blow Which vengeance loud demands.

In freedom's sacred cause they fight, For Independence, Justice, Right, And to resist a desperate might. And by Manassas' glorious name, And by Missouri's fields of fame, We hear them swear, with one acclaim, We'll triumph or we'll die!

MELT THE BELLS.

BY F. Y. ROCKETT.

Melt the bells, melt the bells, Still the tinkling on the plain, And transmute the evening chimes Into war's resounding rhymes, That the invaders may be slain By the bells.

Melt the bells, melt the bells, That for years have called to prayer, And, instead, the cannon's roar Shall resound the valleys o'er, That the foe may catch despair From the bells.

Melt the bells, melt the bells, Though it cost a tear to part With the music they have made, Where the friends we love are laid, With pale cheek and silent heart, 'Neath the bells.

Melt the bells, melt the bells, Into cannon, vast and grim, And the foe shall feel the ire From the heaving lungs of fire, And we'll put our trust in Him, And the bells.

Melt the bells, melt the bells, And when foes no more attack, And the lightning cloud of war Shall roll thunderless and far, We will melt the cannon back Into bells.

Melt the bells, melt the bells, And they'll peal a sweeter chime, And remind of all the brave Who have sunk to glory's grave, And will sleep through coming time 'Neath the bells.[3]

TO THE TORIES OF VIRGINIA.

"I speak this unto your shame."

In the ages gone by, when Virginia arose Her honor and truth to maintain, Her sons round her banner would rally with pride, Determined to save it from stain.

No heart in those days was so false or so cold, That it did not exquisitely thrill With a love and devotion that none would withhold, Until death the proud bosom should chill.

Was Virginia in danger? Fast, fast at her call, From the mountains e'en unto the sea, Came up her brave children their mother to shield, And to die that she still might be free.

And a coward was he, who, when danger's dark cloud Overshadowed Virginia's fair sky, Turned a deaf, careless ear, when her summons was heard, Or refused for her honor to die.

Oh! proud are the mem'ries of days that are past, And richly the heart thrills whene'er We think of the brave who, their mother to save, Have died, as they lived, without fear.

But _now_, can it be that Virginia's name Fails to waken the homage and love Of e'en one of her sons? Oh! cold, cold must be The heart that her name will not move.

When she rallies for freedom, for justice, and right, Will her sons, with a withering sneer, Revile her, and taunt her with treason and shame, Or say she is moved by foul fear?

Will they tell her her glories have fled or grown pale? That she bends to a tyrant in shame? Will they trample her glorious flag in the dust, Or load with reproaches her name?

Will they fly from her shores, or desert her in need? Will _Virginians_ their backs ever turn On their mother, and fly when the danger is nigh, And her claim to their fealty spurn?

False, false is the heart that refuses to yield The love that Virginia doth claim; And base is the tongue that could utter the lie, That charges his mother with shame.

A blot on her 'scutcheon! a stain on her name! Our heart's blood should wipe it away; We should die for her honor, and count it a boon Her mandates to heed and obey.

But never, oh, never, let human tongue say She is false to her honor or fame! She is true to her past--to her future she's true-- And Virginia has never known shame.

Then shame on the dastard, the recreant fool, That _would strike_, _in the dark_, at her now; That would coldly refuse her fair fame to uphold, That would basely prove false to his vow.

But no! it can not--it can never be true, That Virginia claims one single child, That would ever prove false to his home or his God, Or be with foul treason defiled.

And the man that could succor her enemies _now_, Even though on her soil he were born, Is so base, so inhuman, so false and so vile, That Virginia disowns him with scorn!

_Richmond Examiner._

WAR SONG.

BY A. B. MEEK, OF MOBILE.

Wouldst thou have me love thee, dearest, With a woman's proudest heart, Which shall ever hold thee nearest, Shrined in its inmost heart? Listen, then! My country's calling On her sons to meet the foe! Leave these groves of rose and myrtle, Drop the dreamy hand of love! Like young Koerner, scorn the turtle When the eagle screams above!

Dost thou pause? Let dotards dally-- Do thou for thy country fight! 'Neath her noble emblem rally-- "God! our country, and her right!" Listen! now her trumpet's calling On her sons to meet the foe! Woman's heart is soft and tender, But 'tis proud and faithful, too; Shall she be her land's defender? Lover! soldier? up and do!

Seize thy father's ancient falchion, Which once flashed as freedom's star! Till sweet peace--the bow and halcyon, Still'd the stormy strife of war! Listen! now thy country's calling On her sons to meet the foe! Sweet is love in moonlight bowers! Sweet the altar and the flame! Sweet is spring-time with her flowers! Sweeter far the patriot's name!

Should the God who rules above thee Doom thee to a soldier's grave, Hearts will break, but fame will love thee Canonized among the brave! Listen, then, thy country's calling On her sons to meet the foe! Rather would I view thee lying On the last red field of life, 'Mid thy country's heroes dying, Than to be a dastard's wife.

SUMTER; A BALLAD OF 1861.

BY E. O. MURDEN.

'Twas on the twelfth of April, Before the break of day, We heard the guns of Moultrie Give signal for the fray.

Anon across the waters There boomed the answering gun, From North and South came flash on flash-- The battle had begun.

The mortars belched their deadly food, And spiteful whizzed the balls, A fearful storm of iron hailed On Sumter's doomed walls.

We watched the meteor flight of shell, And saw the lightning flash; Saw where each fiery missile fell, And heard the sullen crash.

The morn was dark and cloudy, Yet, till the sun arose, No answer to our gallant boys Came booming from our foes.

Then through the dark and murky clouds The morning sunlight came, And forth from Sumter's frowning walls Burst sudden sheets of flame.

The shot and shell flew thick and fast, The war-dogs howling spoke, And thundering came their angry roar, Through wreathing clouds of smoke.

Again to fight for liberty, Our gallant sons had come, They smiled when came the bugle call, And laughed when tapped the drum.

From cotton- and from corn-field, From desk and forum too, From work-bench and from anvil, came Our gallant boys and true.

A hireling band had come to awe, Our chains to rivet fast; Yon lofty pile scowls on our homes, Seaward the hostile mast.

But gallant freemen man our guns-- No mercenary host, Who barter for their honor's price, And of their baseness boast.

Now came our stately matrons, And maidens too by scores; Oh! Carolina's beauty shone Like love-lights on her shores.

See yonder, anxious gazing, Alone a matron stands, The tear-drop glistening on each lid, And tightly clasped her hands.

For there, exposed to deadly fire, Her husband and her son-- "Father," she spake, and heavenward looked, "Father, thy will be done."

See yonder group of maidens, No joyous laughter now, For cares lie heavy on each heart And cloud each anxious brow:

For brothers dear, and lovers fond, Are there amid the strife; Tearful the sister's anxious gaze-- Pallid the promised wife.

Yet breathed no heart one thought of fear, Prompt at their country's call, They yielded forth their dearest hopes, And gave to honor all!

Now comes a message from below-- Oh quick the tidings tell-- "At Moultrie and Fort Johnson, too, And Morris, all are well!"

Then mark the joyous brightening; See how each bosom swells; That friends and loved ones all are safe, Each to the other tells.

All day the shot flew thick and fast, All night the cannon roared, While wreathed in smoke stern Sumter stood, And vengeful answer poured.

Again the sun rose, bright and clear, 'Twas on the thirteenth day, While, lo! at prudent distance moored Five hostile vessels lay.

With choicest abolition crews-- The bravest of _their_ brave-- They'd come to pull our Crescent down And dig Secession's grave.

See, see, how Sumter's banner trails, They're signaling for aid, See you no boats of armed men? Is yet no movement made?

Now densest smoke and lurid flames Burst out o'er Sumter's walls; "The fort's on fire," 's the cry; Again for aid he calls.

See you no boats or vessels yet? Dare they not risk _one_ shot, To make report grandiloquent Of aid they rendered not?

Nor boat nor vessel leaves the fleet-- "Let the old Major burn"-- We'll boast of that we would have done, If but--on our return.

Go back, go back ye cravens, Go back the way ye came; Ye gallant, _would be_, men-of-war, Go! to your country's shame.

'Mid fiery storm of shot and shell, 'Mid smoke and roaring flame, See how Kentucky's gallant son Does honor to her name!

See how he answers gun for gun-- Hurrah! his flag is down! The white! the white! Oh see it wave! Is echoed all around.

Now ring the bells a joyous peal, And rend with shouts the air, We've torn the hated banner down, And placed the Crescent there.

All honor to our gallant boys, Bring forth the roll of fame, And there in glowing lines inscribe Each patriot hero's name.

Spread, spread the tidings far and wide, Ye winds take up the cry: "Our soil's redeemed from hateful yoke, We'll keep it pure or die."

REBELS.

Rebels! 'tis a holy name! The name our fathers bore, When battling in the cause of Right, Against the tyrant in his might, In the dark days of yore.

Rebels! 'tis our family name! Our father, Washington, Was the arch-rebel in the fight, And gave the name to us--a right Of father unto son.

Rebels! 'tis our given name! Our mother, Liberty, Received the title with her fame, In days of grief, of fear, and shame, When at her breast were we.

Rebels! 'tis our sealed name! A baptism of blood! The war--aye, and the din of strife-- The fearful contest, life for life-- The mingled crimson flood.

Rebels! 'tis a patriot's name! In struggles it was given; We bore it then when tyrants raved, And through their curses 'twas engraved On the doomsday-book of heaven.

Rebels! 'tis our fighting name! For peace rules o'er the land, Until they speak of craven woe-- Until our rights receive a blow, From foe's or brother's hand.

Rebels! 'tis our dying name! For, although life is dear, Yet, freemen born and freemen bred, We'd rather live as freemen dead, Than live in slavish fear.

Then call us rebels, if you will-- We glory in the name; For bending under unjust laws, And swearing faith to an unjust cause, We count a greater shame.

_Atlanta Confederacy._

THE HEART OF LOUISIANA.

BY HARRIET STANTON.

Oh! let me weep, while o'er our land Vile discord strides, with sullen brow, And drags to earth, with ruthless hand, The flag no tyrant's power could bow!

Trailed in the dust, inglorious laid, While one by one her stars retire, And pride and power pursue the raid, That bids our liberty expire.

Aye, let me weep! for surely Heaven In anger views the unholy strife; And angels weep that thus is riven The tie that gave to Freedom life.

I can not shout--I will not sing Loud paeans o'er a severed tie; And, draped in woe, in tears I fling Our State's new flag to greet the sky.

I can but choose, while senseless zeal And lawless hate are clothed with power, The bitter cup; but still I feel The sadness of this parting hour!

I know that thousand hearts will bleed While loud huzzas the welkin rend; The thoughtless crowd will shout, Secede! But ah! will this the conflict end?

Oh! let me weep and prostrate lie Low at the footstool of my God; I can not breathe one note of joy, While yet I feel His chastening rod.

Sure, we have as a nation sinned-- Let every heart its folly own, And sackcloth, as a girdle, bind, And mourn our glorious Union gone!

Sisters, farewell! You know not half The pain your pride, injustice, give; You spurn our cause, and lightly laugh, And hope no more the wrong shall live.

_New Orleans Delta._

SOUTHERN SONG OF FREEDOM.

AIR--"_The Minstrel's Return_."

A nation has sprung into life Beneath the bright Cross of the South; And now a loud call to the strife Rings out from the shrill bugle's mouth. They gather from morass and mountain, They gather from prairie and mart, To drink, at young Liberty's fountain, The nectar that kindles the heart. Then, hail to the land of the pine! The home of the noble and free; A palmetto wreath we'll entwine Round the altar of young Liberty!

Our flag, with its cluster of stars, Firm fixed in a field of pure blue, All shining through red and white bars, Now gallantly flutters in view. The stalwart and brave round it rally, They press to their lips every fold, While the hymn swells from hill and from valley, "Be, God, with our Volunteers bold." Then, hail to the land of the pine! etc.

The invaders rush down from the North, Our borders are black with their hordes; Like wolves for their victims they flock, While whetting their knives and their swords. Their watchword is "Booty and Beauty," Their aim is to steal as they go; But Southrons act up to your duty, And lay the foul miscreants low. Then, hail to the land of the pine! etc.

The God of our fathers looks down And blesses the cause of the just; His smile will the patriot crown Who tramples his chains in the dust. March, march Southrons! shoulder to shoulder, One heart-throb, one shout for the cause; Remember--the world's a beholder, And your bayonets are fixed at your doors! Then, hail to the land of the pine! The home of the noble and free; A palmetto wreath we'll entwine Round the altar of young Liberty.

J. H. H.

THERE'S NOTHING GOING WRONG.