Winds that sweep the southern mountains,
And the leafy river shore,
Bear ye now a prouder burden
Than ye ever learned before!
And the heart blood fills
The heart, till it thrills
At the story
Of the terror and the glory
Of this battle of the Allatoona hills!
Echo it from the purple mountain
To the gray resounding shore!
'Tis as sad and proud a burden
As ye ever learned before.
How they fell like grass
When the mowers pass!
And the dying,
When the foe were flying,
Swelled the cheering of the heroes of the pass.
Sweep it o'er the hills of Georgia,
To the mountains of the north!
Teach the coward and the doubter
What the blood of man is worth!
Toss the flags as ye pass!
Let their stained and tattered mass
Tell the story
Of the terror and the glory
Of the battle of the Allatoona Pass!
Sherman now prepared for a manœuvre which was destined to be the most famous of the war. He determined to destroy Atlanta, and, marching through the heart of Georgia, to capture one or more of the important seaport towns. On November 16, 1864, the famous "march to the sea" began.
Our camp-fires shone bright on the mountain
That frowned on the river below,
As we stood by our guns in the morning,
And eagerly watched for the foe;
When a rider came out of the darkness
That hung over mountain and tree,
And shouted: "Boys, up and be ready!
For Sherman will march to the sea."
Then cheer upon cheer for bold Sherman
Went up from each valley and glen,
And the bugles reëchoed the music
That came from the lips of the men;
For we knew that the stars in our banner
More bright in their splendor would be,
And that blessings from Northland would greet us
When Sherman marched down to the sea.
Then forward, boys! forward to battle!
We marched on our wearisome way,
We stormed the wild hills of Resaca,
God bless those who fell on that day!
Then Kenesaw, dark in its glory,
Frowned down on the flag of the free,
And the East and the West bore our standard
And Sherman marched on to the sea.
Still onward we pressed till our banners
Swept out from Atlanta's grim walls,
And the blood of the patriot dampened
The soil where the traitor flag falls.
We paused not to weep for the fallen,
Who slept by each river and tree,
Yet we twined them a wreath of the laurel
As Sherman marched down to the sea.
Oh, proud was our army that morning,
That stood where the pine darkly towers,
When Sherman said: "Boys, you are weary,
But to-day fair Savannah is ours!"
Then sang we the song of our chieftain,
That echoed o'er river and lea,
And the stars in our banner shone brighter
When Sherman marched down to the sea.