Rally round our country’s flag!
Rally, boys, nor do not lag;
Come from every vale and crag,
Sons of Liberty!
Northern Vandals tread our soil,
Forth they come for blood and spoil,
To the homes we’ve gained with toil,
Shouting, “Slavery.”
Traitorous Lincoln’s bloody band
Now invades the freeman’s land,
Arm’d with sword and firebrand,
’Gainst the brave and free.
Arm ye, then, for fray and fight,
March ye forth both day and night,
Stop not till the foe’s in sight,
Sons of chivalry.

In your veins the blood still flows
Of brave men who once arose—
Burst the shackles of their foes;
Honest men and free
Rise, then, in your power and might,
Seek the spoiler, brave the fight;
Strike for God, for Truth, for Right:
Strike for Liberty!

LEE AT THE WILDERNESS.

By Miss Mollie E. Moore.

’Twas a terrible moment!
The blood and the rout!
His great bosom shook
With an awful doubt.
Confusion in front,
And a pause in the cries:
And a darkness like night
Passed over our skies:
There were tears in the eyes
Of General Lee.
As the blue-clad lines
Swept fearfully near,
There was wavering yonder,
And a break in the cheer
Of our columns unsteady:
But “We are here! We are ready
With rifle and blade!”
Cried the Texas Brigade
To General Lee.
He smiled—it meant death,
That wonderful smile;
It leaped like a flame
Down each close set file;
And we stormed to the front
With a long, loud cry—
We had long ago learned
How to charge and to die:
There was faith in the eye
Of General Lee.
But a sudden pause came,
As we dashed on the foe,
And our scathing columns
Swayed to and fro;
Cold grew our blood,
Glowing like wine,
And a quick, sharp whisper
Shot over our line,
As our ranks opened wide—
And there by our side
Rode General Lee.
How grandly he rode!
With his eyes on fire,
And his great bosom shook
With an awful desire!
But, “Back to the rear!
’Till you ride to the rear
We will not do battle
With gun or with blade!”
Cried the Texas Brigade
To General Lee.

Gen. Robert E. Lee.

And so he rode back;
And our terrible yell
Stormed up to the front;
And the fierce, wild swell,
And the roar and the rattle,
Swept into the battle
From General Lee.
I felt my foot slip
In the gathering fray—
I looked, and my brother
Lay dead in my way.
I paused but one moment
To draw him aside;
Ah! the gash in his bosom
Was bloody and wide!
But he smiled, for he died
For General Lee.
Christ! ’twas maddening work;
But the work was done,
And a few came back
When the hour was won.
Let it glow in the peerless
Records of the fearless—
The charge that was made
By the Texas Brigade
For General Lee.