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.
VI.
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.
VII.
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.
Nec Temere, Nec Timide.
By Annie Chambers Ketchum.
Gentlemen of the South,
Gird on your glittering swords!
Darkly along our borders fair
Gather the Northern hordes.
Ruthless and fierce they come
At the fiery cannon's mouth,
To blast the glory of our land,
Gentlemen of the South!
Ride forth in your stately pride,
Each bearing on his shield
Ensigns our fathers won of yore
On many a well-fought field!
Let this be your battle-cry,
Even to the cannon's mouth,
Cor unum via una! Onward,
Gentlemen of the South!