THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH.
"Go home to your native soil,
Ye sons of the Celtic brave;
You will have to fight till the last man falls
To free the Southern slave."
"We have come to this fight to-day
With no maiden, bloodless blade;
We have come to fight till the last man falls,"
Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.
"We have felt of an iron heel,
We have known a tyrant's hand,
We have come to fight till the Rebels reel
From the shotted shell of our cannon peal,
And the hero-handled brand."
THE SPIRIT OF THE SOUTH.
"Then come to the battle charge!
Welcome the Celtic yell!
'Twixt you and the South, at the cannon's mouth,
'Tis Gettysburg or Hell!"
BURKE OF THE BRAVE BRIGADE.
"Then 'tis Gettysburg Heights or Hell!
We are here till the game is played;
And a Hell he will feel who dares our steel,"
Said Burke of the Brave Brigade.
So they fought, and the story runs
(All thanks to the Heavenly Powers),
That the field was won by the Celtic sons;
For Hell flashed Leeward from out their guns,
And Gettysburg is ours!