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Clime of the Sun! Home of the Brave!
Thy sons are bold and free,
Their birthright, Liberty!
That yield thee wealth alone,
and a throne !
Proud country! battling, bleeding, torn,
Thy altars desolate; Thy lovely dark-eyed daughters mourn
At war's relentless fate;
Her homes will consecrate,
The trophy of her great.
Oh! land that boasts each gallant name
Of Jackson, Johnson, Lee,
Extends beyond the sea;
From gulf to mountain cave,
Than we the tyrant's slave!
Fair, favored land! thou mayst be free,
Redeemed by blood and war; Through agony and gloom we see
Thy hope—a glimmering star;
A herald on the seas-
Will emulate and praise!
But who can paint the impulse pure
That thrills and nerves thy brave To deeds of valor that secure
The rights their fathers gave?
Oh! grieve not, hearts; her matchless slain
Crowned with the warrior's wreath,
Was "Liberty or Death!”
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER
By FRANCIS SCOTT KEY
[When the British fleet in 1814 approached Fort McHenry at Baltimore, Francis Scott Key was on board. He had gone to intercede with Admiral Cockburn for the release of Dr. William Beanes. Key watched the battle from his own ship during the whole night and did not know till morning, when he saw the American flag still Hoating, that Fort McHenry had not capitulated. "The Star-Spangled Banner" was written immediately afterward. The stanzaic structure was suggested by the popular air "To Anacreon in Heaven." In 1859. a volume of Key's poems was published in Baltimore with an introductory letter by his brother-in-law, Chief Justice Taney, but the contents add nothing to the author's fame. The only other popular poem that he ever wrote was the hymn beginning "Lord, with glowing heart I'd praise thee.”] O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleamingWhose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous
fight, O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming? And the rocket's red glare, the bomb bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; O! say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses ?
And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave; And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!
O! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation! Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, And this be our motto,-"In God is our trust!" And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!
STONEWALL JACKSON'S WAY
By JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER
[This poem is found in practically all anthologies of American verse and has taken its place as perhaps the most graphic and condensed pen-portrait of Jackson that has been made. Mr. Palmer was born in Baltimore, Maryland, April 4, 1825, and died in 1906. He was the author of many volumes of prose and verse.)
Come, stack arms, men; pile on the rails;
Stir up the camp-fire bright!
We'll make a roaring night.
Of "Stonewall Jackson's way.”
We see him now--the queer slouch hat
Cocked o'er his eye askew;
So calm, so blunt, so true.
That's Stonewall Jackson's way.
Silence! Ground arms! Kneel all! Caps off!
Old Massa's going to pray.
Attention! it's his way.
Appealing from his native sod,
Amen." That's Stonewall's way.
Steady the whole brigade!
His way out, ball and blade.
What matter if our feet are torn?
That's Stonewall Jackson's way.
Of morning; and, by George!
Hemmed in an ugly gorge.
In Stonewall Jackson's way.
For news of Stonewall's band.
That ring upon thy hand.
That gets in Stonewalls way.
WE ARE OLD-TIME CONFEDERATES
[This song, modeled on "The Old-Time Religion," is a favorite at Confederate reunions and on Memorial Days. It can hardly claim an author but has been gradually built up and added to year after year, by successive singers.]
We are a band of brothers,
Who fought for Liberty.
They're good enough for me.
He was good enough for me. Lee and Johnston were our chieftains, Bragg, Beauregard, and Johnson, These were glorious chieftains,
They were good enough for me. We follow'd Stonewall Jackson, The Christian soldier Jackson, The terror-striking Jackson,
He was good enough for me. We fought with Hood and Gordon, With Longstreet, Polk, and Cleburne, With Ewell, Hill, and Hardee;
They were good enough for me. We rode with Stuart, Hampton, With Fitz Lee, Duke, and Morgan, With Forrest and Joe Wheeler,
They were good enough for me. We wore ourselves out fighting, We wore ourselves out fighting, We wore ourselves out fighting,
For Southern liberty.
Now our country is united,
It's good enough for me.
We must all meet in heaven,
To rejoice eternally.