“By regiment! Forward into line!” Then sabres and guns and bayonets shine. Oh ye, who feel your fate at last, Repeat the old prayer as your hearts beat fast! Rub a dub dub! rub a dub dub!
Oh, ye who waited and prayed so long That Right might have a fair fight with Wrong, No more in fruitless marches shall plod, But smite the foe with the wrath of God! Rub a dub dub! rub a dub dub!
O Death! what a charge that carried the hill! That carried, and kept, and holds it still! The foe is broken and flying with fear, While far on their route our drummers I hear,— Rub a dub dub! rub a dub dub!
THE YEAR OF JUBILEE.
[A body of negro troops entered Richmond singing this song when the Union forces took possession of the Confederate capital. It is an interesting fact, illustrative of the elasticity of spirit shown by the losers in the great contest, that the song, which might have been supposed to be peculiarly offensive to their wounded pride and completely out of harmony with their deep depression and chagrin, became at once a favorite among them, and was sung, with applause, by young men and maidens in wellnigh every house in Virginia.—Editor.]
