To their Country’s flag to repel the darts
Which treason had hurled with malice wild
At the life of the mother, so good and mild,—
My boy stepped down from the preacher’s stand,
And started forth, with life in hand,
To sell it dear, but to battle strong
With the loyal North against fearful wrong.
I know that he carries a magic spell
’Gainst the curse of our race to guard him well;
And I know, should he fall, his death will be