When history tells her story,
Of the noble hero band,
Who have made the green fields gory,
For the life of their native land,
How grand will be the picture,
Of Georgia’s proud array,
As they drove the boasting foeman back,
On that glorious twelfth of May, boys,
That glorious twelfth of May.
Chorus.—Then hurrah! while we rally around
The hero of that day!
And a nation’s grateful praises crown,
The man of the twelfth of May, boys,
The man of the twelfth of May.

Whose mien is ever proudest,
When we hold the foe at bay?
Whose war-cry cheers us loudest,
As we rush to the bloody fray?
’Tis Gordon’s! Our reliance!
Fearless as on the day,
When he hurled his grand defiance,
In that charge of the twelfth of May, boys,
In that charge of the twelfth of May!
Chorus.
Who can be a coward!
What freeman fears to die,
When Gordon orders, “Forward!”
And the red cross floats on high?
Follow his tones inspiring!
On! on to the field away!
And we’ll see the foe retiring,
As they did on the twelfth of May, boys,
As they did on the twelfth of May!
Chorus.
This is no time for sighing!
Whate’er our fate may be,
’Tis sweet to think that, dying,
We will leave our country free!
When the storms of battle pelt her,
She’ll defy the tyrants’ sway,
And our breasts shall be her shelter,
As they were on the twelfth of May, boys,
As they were on the twelfth of May!
Chorus.

MORGAN’S WAR SONG.

Cheer, boys, cheer! we’ll march away to battle!
Cheer, boys, cheer! for our sweethearts and our wives!
Cheer, boys, cheer! we’ll nobly do our duty,
And give to the South our hearts, our arms, our lives.
Bring forth the flag—our country’s noble standard;
Wave it on high ’till the wind shakes each fold out:
Proudly it floats, nobly waving in the vanguard;
Then cheer, boys, cheer! with a lusty, long, bold shout,
Cheer, boys, cheer! etc.
But as we march, with heads all lowly bending,
Let us implore a blessing from on high;
Our cause is just—the right from wrong defending;
And the God of battle will listen to our cry.
Cheer, boys, cheer! etc.
Tho’ to our homes we never may return,
Ne’er press again our lov’d ones in our arms,
O’er our lone graves their faithful hearts will mourn,
Then cheer up, boys, cheer! such death hath no alarms.
Cheer, boys, cheer! etc.

THE SONG OF THE EXILE.

Air—“Dixie.”

Oh! here I am in the land of cotton,
The flag once honor’d is now forgotten;
Fight away, fight away, fight away for Dixie’s land.
But here I stand for Dixie dear,
To fight for freedom, without fear;
Fight away, fight away, fight away for Dixie’s land.
Chorus.—For Dixie’s land I’ll take my stand,
To live or die for Dixie’s land,
Fight away, fight away, fight away for Dixie’s land.
Abe Lincoln tore through Baltimore,
In a baggage car with fastened door;
Fight away, etc.
And left his wife, alas! alack!
To perish on the railroad track!
Fight away, etc.
Chorus.
We have no ships, we have no navies,
But mighty faith in the great Jeff Davis;
Fight away, etc.
Brave old Missouri shall be ours,
Despite Abe Lincoln’s Northern powers,
Fight away, etc.
Chorus.

Abe’s proclamation in a twinkle,
Stirred up the blood of Rip Van Winkle;
Fight away, etc.
Jeff Davis’s answer was short and curt:
“Fort Sumpter’s taken, and nobody’s hurt!”
Fight away, etc.
Chorus.
We hear the words of this same ditty,
To the right and left of the Mississippi;
Fight away, etc.
In the land of flowers, hot and sandy,
From Delaware Bay to Rio Grande!
Fight away, etc.
Chorus.
The ladies cheer with heart and hand,
The men who fight for Dixie land;
Fight away, etc.
The “Stars and Bars” are waving o’er us,
And Independence is before us;
Fight away, etc.
Chorus.
Martinsburg, Va.