Ye men of Alabama,
Awake, arise, awake
And rend the coils asunder
Of this abolition snake.
If another fold he fastens—
If this final coil he plies—
In the cold clasp of hate and power,
Fair Alabama dies.
Though round your lower limbs and waist
His deadly coils I see,
Yet, yet, thank heaven! your head and arms,
And good right hand, are free;
And in that hand there glistens—
O, God! what joy to feel!
A polished blade, full sharp and keen,
Of tempered State rights’ steel.
Now, by the free-born sires
From whose brave loins ye sprung,
And by the noble mothers
At whose fond breasts ye hung!
And by your wives and daughters,
And by the ills they dread
Drive deep that good secession steel
Right through the monster’s head.
This serpent abolition
Has been coiling on for years.
We have reasoned, we have threatened,
We have begged almost with tears;
Now, away, away with union,
Since on our Southern soil
The only union left us
Is an anaconda’s coil.
Brave little South Carolina
Will strike the self-same blow,
And Florida, and Georgia,
And Mississippi, too,
And Arkansas, and Texas;
And at the death, I ween,
The head will fall beneath the blows
Of all the brave fifteen.
In this, our day of trial,
Let feuds and factions cease,
Until above this howling storm
We see the sign of peace.
Let Southern men, like brothers,
In solid phalanx stand,
And poise their spears, and lock their shields
To guard their native land.
The love that for the Union
Once in our bosoms beat,
From insult and from injury
Has turned to scorn and hate;
And the banner of secession,
To-day we lift on high,
Resolved, beneath that sacred flag,
To conquer, or to die!
Montgomery Advertiser, October, 1860. |