Tune—“A Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea.”

Three cheers for the Southern flag,
That floats upon the gale,
Once more fling out its flapping folds,
And make its foeman quail.
And make each foeman quail, my boys,
While, like an earthquake roar,
Goes forth our war cry through the land,
For liberty once more.
Chorus.—Three cheers for the Southern flag,
That floats above the gale,
Once more fling out its flapping folds,
And make its foeman quail.

Oh, for an Abolition crowd,
I hear old Abe cry out,
Affrighted by the march of foes,
The freeman’s mighty shout.
That shouting welcomes to our heart,
The freeman’s chosen man—
Jeff Davis—who now heads our hosts,
And leads the glorious van.
Chorus.
Full brightly waves our flag in air,
O’er Sumpter’s fort just won.
And soon o’er Pickens’ towering heights
It will glitter in the sun.
It will glitter in the sun, my boys,
And fan the battle cloud,
The struggling freeman’s sigh of hope,
The fallen heroes’ shroud.
Chorus.
And now three cheers for the glorious flag,
That victory has won,
And may it soon be towering o’er
The Dome at Washington.
The Dome at Washington, my boys,
While Abolition hosts
Shall quail and shake before the flag—
The freeman’s glorious boast.
Chorus.

THE STARS AND THE BARS.

O, the South is the queen of all nations,
The home of the brave and the true—
She makes no vain demonstration;
But shows what her brave sons can do;
Her freedom and advancement they cherish—
“Our rights, our liberties,” they cry,
“To the rescue, we’ll win the fight or perish,
For the Southern boys never fear to die.”
Chorus.—Then hurrah for the “Stars and Bars,”
No stain on its folds ever be—
Its glory dishonor never mars,
And ’twill yet grace the land of the free.
Bring forward the tankard and fill it,
Ye sons that are loyal and brave,
Our blood—O, how freely we’ll spill it,
We are fighting for freedom or the grave;
Our armies may be scattered and disbanded,
Yet the wild-woods we still will infest—
Yet shall fear the brave foe tho’ single-handed,
When the death rattle burst from his breast.
Chorus.
Though black clouds sometimes may darken,
And shadow the bright sunny sky;
To the rumbling of cannon we’ll hearken,
Which tells of the foe as they fly.
Tho’ thousands may fall stark and gory,
Their requiem from gun and cannon mouth,
They’ll win fame, freedom and glory;
And all for the loved “Sunny South.”
Chorus.

CONFEDERATE SONG.

Air—“Bruce’s Address.”

Written for and dedicated to the Kirk’s Ferry Rangers, by their Captain, E. Lloyd Wailes. Sung by the Glee Club on 4th July, 1861, at the Kirk’s Ferry Barbecue (Catahoula, La.), after the presentation of a flag, by the ladies, to the Kirk’s Ferry Rangers.