Air—“Bruce’s Address.”

Southern men, unsheathe the sword,
Inland and along the board;
Backward drive the Northern horde—
Rush to Victory!
Let your banners kiss the sky,
Be “The Right” your battle cry!
Be the God of Battles nigh—
Crown you in the fight!

Pressing back the tears that start,
We behold your hosts depart,
Saying, with heroic heart,
Clothe your arms with might!
Lower the proud oppressor’s crest!
Or, if he should prove the best,
Dead, not dishonored, rest
On the field of blood!
We—may God so give us grace!—
Sons will rear, to take your place;
Strong the foemen’s steel to face—
Strong in heart and hand!
Death your serried ranks may sweep,
Proud shall be the tears we weep—
Sacredly our hearts shall keep
Memory of your deeds!
Though our land be left forlorn,
Spirit of the Southron-born
Northern rage shall laugh to scorn—
Northern hosts defy.

He that last is doomed to die
Shall, with his expiring sigh,
Send aloft the battle-cry,
“God defend the Right!”

THE CAVALIERS OF DIXIE.

BY BENJAMIN F. PORTER.

Ye Cavaliers of Dixie!
Who guard the Southern shores,
Whose standards brave the battle storm
Which o’er our border roars;
Your glorious sabers draw once more,
And charge the Northern foe;
And reap their columns deep,
Where the raging tempests blow,
And the iron hail in floods descends,
And the bloody torrents flow.
Ye Cavaliers of Dixie!
Though dark the tempest lower,
What arms will wear the tyrants chains,
What dastard heart will cower?
Bright o’er the night a sign shall rise
To lead to victory!
And your swords reap their hordes,
Where the battle tempests blow;
Where the iron hail in floods descends,
And the bloody torrents flow.
The South! she needs no ramparts,
No lofty towers to shield;
Your bosoms are her bulwarks strong,
Breastworks that never yield!
The thunders of your battle blades
Shall sweep the servile foe;
While their gore stains the shore,
Where the battle tempests blow;
Where the iron hail in floods descends
And the bloody torrents flow.
The battle-flag of Dixie!
With crimson field shall flame,
Her azure cross and silver stars
Shall light her sons to fame!
When peace with olive-branch returns,
That flag’s white folds shall glow
Still bright on every height,
When storm has ceased to blow,
And the battle tempests roar no more;
Nor the bloody torrents flow.
Oh! battle-flag of Dixie!
Long, long, triumphant wave!
Where’er the storms of battle roar,
Or victory crowns the brave!
The Cavaliers of Dixie!
In woman’s song shall glow
The fame of your name,
When the storm has ceased to blow,
When the battle tempests rage no more
Nor the bloody torrents flow.[10]

LAND OF KING COTTON.

BY JO. AUGUSTINE SIGNAIGO.

Air—“Red, White, and Blue.”