War Poetry of the South E-Book

Various

• Herausgeber: Booksell-Verlag
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

"War Poetry of the South" is a compelling anthology that captures the profound emotional landscape of the Civil War through the eyes of Southern poets. This collection showcases a rich literary style characterized by vivid imagery, poignant symbolism, and an interplay of personal and collective memory. The poems reflect not only the valor and desperation of battle but also delve into the psychological repercussions of war on the Southern psyche, situating these voices within the broader context of 19th-century American literature and its evolving responses to conflict and loss. The authors of this anthology are a diverse group of poets, including both well-known figures and lesser-celebrated voices whose work had been overshadowed by the war'Äôs dominant narratives. Their personal experiences'Äîranging from soldiering to witnessing the devastation of their homes'Äîhave intricately informed their poetry, providing a unique lens through which to understand the war's impact on the Southern identity. Their artistic perspectives illustrate the intimate struggles and resilience found amidst the chaos of battle. Readers seeking an immersive experience of Civil War-era sentiments will find this anthology indispensable. "War Poetry of the South" not only enriches the understanding of Southern historical consciousness but also resonates with contemporary discussions on memory, trauma, and identity. It is a must-read for enthusiasts of poetry, history, and American literature alike.

Leseprobe

Various

War Poetry of the South

Published by Good Press, 2019

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EAN 4064066245634

Table of Contents

Preface.

War Poetry of the South

Ethnogenesis.

By Henry Timrod, of S.C.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

God Save the South.

George H. Miles, of Baltimore.

You Can Never Win Them Back.

By Catherine M. Warfield.

The Southern Cross.

By E. K. Blunt.

South Carolina.

December 20, 1860.

The New Star.

By B.M. Anderson.

The Irrepressible Conflict.

Tyrtæus.-- Charleston Mercury.

The Southern Republic.

By Olivia Tully Thomas, of Mississippi.

"Is There, Then, No Hope for the Nations?"

Charleston Courier.

The Fate of the Republics.

Charleston Mercury.

The Voice of the South.

Tyrtæus.-- Charleston Mercury.

The Oath of Freedom.

By James Barron Hope.

The Battle-Cry of the South.

By James R. Randall.

Sonnet.

Charleston Mercury.

Seventy-Six and Sixty-One.

By John W. Overall, of Louisiana.

"Reddato Gladium."

Virginia to Winfield Scott.

Nay, Keep the Sword.

By Carrie Clifford.

Coercion: A Poem for Then and Now.

By John R. Thompson, of Virginia.

A Cry to Arms.

By Henry Timrod.

Jackson, The Alexandria Martyr.

By Wm. H. Holcombe, M.D., of Virginia.

The Martyr of Alexandria.

By James W. Simmons, of Texas.

The Blessed Union--Epigram.

The Fire of Freedom.

Hymn to the National Flag.

By Mrs. M. J. Preston.

Sonnet--Moral of Party

Charleston Mercury.

Our Faith in '61.

By A. J. Requier.

Wouldst Thou Have Me Love Thee.

By Alex B. Meek.

Enlisted To-Day.

My Maryland.

The Boy-Soldier.

By a Lady of Savannah.

The Good Old Cause.

By John D. Phelan, of Montgomery, Ala.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

Manassas.

By Catherine M. Warfield.

Virginia.

By Catherine M. Warfield.

The War-Christian's Thanksgiving.

Sonnet.

Charleston Mercury.

Marching to Death.

By J. Herbert Sass, of South Carolina.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

Charleston.

By Henry Timrod.

Charleston.

By Paul H. Hayne.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

"Ye Men of Alabama!"

By John D. Phelan, of Montgomery, Ala.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

Nec Temere, Nec Timide.

By Annie Chambers Ketchum.

Dixie.

By Albert Pike.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

The Old Rifleman.

By Frank Ticknor, of Georgia.

Battle Hymn.

Charleston Mercury.

Kentucky, She Is Sold

By J. R. Barrick, of Kentucky.

Sonnet--The Ship of State.

"In His Blanket on the Ground."

By Caroline H. Gervais, Charleston.

The Mountain Partisan.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

The Cameo Bracelet.

By James R. Randall, of Maryland.

Zollicoffer.

By H. L. Flash, of Alabama.

Beauregard

By Catharine A. Warfield, of Mississippi.

South Carolina.

Carolina.

By Henry Timrod.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

My Mother-Land.

By Paul H. Hayne.

Joe Johnston.

By John R. Thompson.

Over the River.

By Jane T. H. Cross.

Published in the Nashville Christian Advocate, 1861.

The Confederacy.

By Jane T. H. Cross.

Published in the Southern Christian Advocated.

President Davis.

By Jane T. H. Cross.

Published in the New York News, 1865.

The Rifleman's "Fancy Shot."

"All Quiet Along the Potomac To-Night."

By Lamar Fontaine.

Address

Delivered at the opening of the new theatre at Richmond.

A Prize Poem.--By Henry Timrod.

The Battle of Richmond.

By George Herbert Sass, Charleston, S.C.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

The Guerillas: A Southern War-Song.

By S. Teackle Wallis, of Maryland.

A Farewell to Pope.

By John K. Thompson, of Virginia.

Sonnet.

On Reading a Proclamation for Public Prayer.

South Carolinian.

Battle of Belmont.

By J. Augustine Signaigo.

From the Memphis Appeal, Dec. 21, 1861.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

Vicksburg--A Ballad.

By Paul H. Hayne.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

A Ballad of the War.

Published Originally in the Southern Field and Fireside,

By George Herbert Sass, of Charleston, S.C.

The Two Armies.

By Henry Timrod.

The Legion of Honor.

Clouds in the West.

By A. J. Requier, of Alabama.

Georgia, My Georgia!

By Carrie Bell Sinclair.

Song of the Texas Rangers.

Kentucky Required to Yield Her Arms.

By----Boone.

"There's Life in the Old Land Yet."

First Published in the New Orleans Delta, about September 1, 1861.

Tell the Boys the War Is Ended.

By Emily J. Moore.

"The Southern Cross."

By St. George Tucker, of Virginia.

England's Neutrality.

A Parliamentary Debate.

By John R. Thompson, of Richmond, Virginia.

Close the Ranks.

By John L. O'Sullivan.

The Sea-Kings of the South.

By Edward C. Bruce, of Winchester, Va.

The Return.

Our Christmas Hymn.

By John Dickson Bruns, M.D., of Charleston, S.C.

Charleston.

Written for the Charleston Courier in 1863.

By Miss E. B. Cheesborough.

Gathering Song.

Air--Bonnie Blue Flag

By Annie Chambers Ketchum.

Christmas.

By Henry Timrod, of South Carolina.

A Prayer for Peace.

By S. Teackle Wallis, of Maryland.

The Band in the Pines.

(Heard after Pelham Died.)

By John Esten Cooke.

At Fort Pillow.

First published in the Wilmington Journal, April 25, 1864.

From the Rapidan--1864.

Song of Our Glorious Southland.

By Mrs. Mary Ware.

From the Southern Field and Fireside.

I.

II.

III.

Sonnet.

By Paul H. Hayne.

Hospital Duties.

Charleston Courier.

They Cry Peace, Peace, When There Is No Peace.

By Mrs. Alethea S. Burroughs, of Georgia.

Ballad--"What! Have Ye Thought?"

Charleston Mercury.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

Missing.

Ode-"Souls of Heroes."

Charleston Mercury.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

Jackson.

By H. L. Flash, of Galveston, Formerly of Mobile.

Captain Maffit's Ballad of the Sea.

Charleston Mercury.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

Melt the Bells.

F. Y. Rockett.--Memphis Appeal.

John Pelham.

By James R. Randall.

"Ye Batteries of Beauregard."

By J. R. Barrick, of Kentucky.

"When Peace Returns."

Published in the Granada Picket.

By Olivia Tully Thomas.

The Right above the Wrong.

By John W. Overall.

Carmen Triumphale.

By Henry Timrod.

The Fiend Unbound.

Charleston Mercury.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

The Unknown Dead.

By Henry Timrod.

Ode--"Do Ye Quail?"

By W. Gilmore Simms.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

Ode--"Our City by the Sea."

By W. Gilmore Simms.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

The Lone Sentry.

By James R. Randall.

To My Soldier Brother.

By Sallie E. Ballard, of Texas.

Sea-Weeds

Written in Exile.

By Annie Chambers Ketchum.

The Salkehatchie.

By Emily J. Moore.

The Broken Mug.

Ode (so-called) on a Lite Melancholy Accident in the Shenandoah Valley (so-called.)

John Esten Cooke.

Carolina.

By Anna Peyre Dinnies.

Our Martyrs.

Bu Paul H. Hayne.

Cleburne.

By M. A. Jennings, of Alabama.

The Texan Marseillaise.

By James Haines, of Texas.

O, Tempora! O, Mores!

By John Dickson Bruns, M. D.

Our Departed Comrades.

By J. Marion Shirer.

No Land Like Ours.

Published in the Montgomery Advertiser, January, 1863.

By J. R. Barrick, of Kentucky.

The Angel of the Church.

By W. Gilmore Simms.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

Ode--"Shell the Old City! Shell!"

By W. Gilmore Simms.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

"The Enemy Shall Never Reach Your City."

Andrew Jackson's Address to the People of New Orleans.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

War-Waves.

By Catherine Gendron Poyas, of Charleston.

Old Moultrie.

By Catherine Gendron Poyas, of Charleston.

Only One Killed.

By Julia L. Keyes, Montgomery, Ala.

Land of King Cotton.[1]

Air--Red, White, and Blue.

By J. Augustine Signaigo.

If You Love Me.

By J. Augustine Signaigo.

The Cotton Boll.

By Henry Timrod.

The Battle of Charleston Harbor.

April 7th, 1863.

By Paul H. Hayne.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

Fort Wagner.

By W. Gilmore Simms.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

Sumter in Ruins.

By W. Gilmore Simms.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

Morris Island.

By W. Gilmore Simms.

Promise of Spring.

Spring.

By Henry Timrod.

Chickmauga--"The Stream of Death."

Richmond Senitnel.

In Memoriam

Of Our Right-Revered Father in God, Leonidas Polk, Lieutenant-General Confederate States Army.

"Stonewall" Jackson

By H. L. Flash.

"Stonewall" Jackson.--A Dirge.

Beaufort.

By W. J. Grayson, of South Carolina.

The Empty Sleeve.

The Cotton-Burners' Hymn.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

Reading the List.

His Last Words.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

Charge of Hagood's Brigade.

Weldon Railroad, August 21, 1864.

Carolina.

April 14, 1861.

By John A. Wagener, of S.C.

Savannah.

By Alethea S. Burroughs.

"Old Betsy."

By John Killum.

Awake--Arise!

By G. W. Archer, M. D.

General Albert Sidney Johnston.

By Mary Jervy, of Charleston.

Eulogy of the Dead.

By B. F. Porter, of Alabama.

The Beaufort Exile's Lament.

Somebody's Darling.

By Marie La Coste, of Georgia.

John Pegram,

Fell at the Head of His Division, Feb. 6th, 1865, Ætat XXXIII.

By W. Gordon McCabe.

Captives Going Home.

The Heights of Mission Ridge.

By J. Augustine Signaigo.

"Our Left at Manassas."

On to Richmond.

After Southey's "March to Moscow."

By John R. Thompson, of Virginia.

Turner Ashby.

By John R. Thompson, of Virginia

Captain Latane.

By John R. Thompson, of Virginia.

The Men.

By Maurice Bell.

"A Rebel Soldier Killed in the Trenches before Petersburg, Va., April 15, 1865."

By a Kentucky Girl.

Battle of Hampton Roads.

By Ossian D. Gorman.

Is This a Time to Dance?

"The Maryland Line."

By J.D. M'Cabe, Jr.

The Virginians of the Shenandoah Valley.

" Sic Jurat ."

By Frank Ticknor, M.D., of Georgia.

Sonnet.--The Avatar of Hell.

Charleston Mercury.

"Stonewall" Jackson's Way.

The Silent March.

Pro Memoria.

Air--There is rest for the weary.

By Ina M. Porter, of Alabama.

The Southern Homes in Ruin.

By R. B. Vance, of North Carolina.

"Rappahannock Army Song."

By John C. M'Lemore.

The Soldier in the Rain.

By Julia L. Keyes.

My Country.

By W. D. Porter, S. C.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

IV.

"After the Battle."

By Miss Agnes Leonard.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

Our Confederate Dead.

What the Heart of a Young Girl Said to the Dead Soldier.

By a Lady of Augusta, Geo.

Ye Cavaliers of Dixie

By Benj. F. Pouter, of Alabama.

Song of Spring, (1864.)

By John A. Wagener, of South Carolina.

"What the Village Bell Said."

By John C. M'Lemore, of South Carolina.[1]

The Tree, the Serpent, and the Star.

By A. P. Gray, of South Carolina.

Southern War Hymn

By John A. Wagener, of South Carolina.

The Battle Rainbow.

By John R. Thompson, of Virginia.

Stonewall Jackson.

Mortally wounded--" The Brigade must not know, sir. "

Dirge for Ashby.

By Mrs. M. J. Preston.

Sacrifice.

I.

II.

Sonnet.

Written in 1864.

Grave of A. Sydney Johnston.

"Not Doubtful of Your Fatherland."

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

Only a Soldier's Grave.

By S. A. Jones, of Aberdeen, Mississippi.

The Guerilla Martyrs.

I.

II.

III.

"Libera Nos, O Domine!"

By James Barron Hope.

The Knell Shall Sound Once More.

Gendron Palmer, of the Holcombe Legion

By Ina M. Porter, of Alabama.

Mumford, the Martyr of New Orleans.

By Ina M. Porter, of Alabama.

The Foe at the Gates.--Charleston.

By J. Dickson Bruns, M. D.

Savannah Fallen.

By Alethea S. Burroughs, of Georgia.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

Bull Run.--A Parody.

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

"Stack Arms."

Written in the Prison of Fort Delaware, Del., on Hearing of the Surrender of General Lee.

By Jos. Blyth Alston.

Doffing the Gray.

By Lieutenant Falligant, of Savannah, Geo.

In the Land Where We Were Dreaming

By D. B. Lucas, Esq., of Jefferson.

Ballad--"Yes, Build Your Walls."

I.

II.

III.

The Lines Around Petersburg.

By Samuel Davis, of North Carolina.

All Is Gone.

Fadette.--Memphis Appeal.

Bowing Her Head.

The Confederate Flag

By Anna Feyre Dinnies, of Louisiana.

Ashes of Glory.

A. J. Requier.

Preface.

Table of Contents

Several considerations have prompted the editor of this volume in the compilation of its pages. It constitutes a contribution to the national literature which is assumed to be not unworthy of it, and which is otherwise valuable as illustrating the degree of mental and art development which has been made, in a large section of the country, under circumstances greatly calculated to stimulate talent and provoke expression, through the higher utterances of passion and imagination. Though sectional in its character, and indicative of a temper and a feeling which were in conflict with nationality, yet, now that the States of the Union have been resolved into one nation, this collection is essentially as much the property of the whole as are the captured cannon which were employed against it during the progress of the late war. It belongs to the national literature, and will hereafter be regarded as constituting a proper part of it, just as legitimately to be recognized by the nation as are the rival ballads of the cavaliers and roundheads, by the English, in the great civil conflict of their country.

The emotional literature of a people is as necessary to the philosophical historian as the mere details of events in the progress of a nation. This is essential to the reputation of the Southern people, as illustrating their feelings, sentiments, ideas, and opinions--the motives which influenced their actions, and the objects which they had in contemplation, and which seemed to them to justify the struggle in which they were engaged. It shows with what spirit the popular mind regarded the course of events, whether favorable or adverse; and, in this aspect, it is even of more importance to the writer of history than any mere chronicle of facts. The mere facts in a history do not always, or often, indicate the true animus, of the action. But, in poetry and song, the emotional nature is apt to declare itself without reserve--speaking out with a passion which disdains subterfuge, and through media of imagination and fancy, which are not only without reserve, but which are too coercive in their own nature, too arbitrary in their influence, to acknowledge any restraints upon that expression, which glows or weeps with emotions that gush freely and freshly from the heart. With this persuasion, we can also forgive the muse who, in her fervor, is sometimes forgetful of her art.

And yet, it is believed that the numerous pieces of this volume will be found creditable to the genius and culture of the Southern people, and honorable, as in accordance with their convictions. They are derived from all the States of the late Southern Confederacy, and will be found truthfully to exhibit the sentiment and opinion prevailing more or less generally throughout the whole. The editor has had special advantages in making the compilation. Having a large correspondence in most of the Southern States, he has found no difficulty in procuring his material. Contributions have poured in upon him from all portions of the South; the original publications having been, in a large number of cases, subjected to the careful revision of the several authors. It is a matter of great regret with him that the limits of the present volume have not suffered him to do justice to, and find a place for, many of the pieces which fully deserve to be put on record. Some of the poems were quite too long for his purpose; a large number, delayed by the mails and other causes, were received too late for publication. Several collections, from Louisiana, North Carolina, and Texas, especially, are omitted for this reason. Many of these pieces are distinguished by fire, force, passion, and a free play of fancy. Briefly, his material would enable him to prepare another volume, similar to the present, which would not be unworthy of its companionship. He is authorized by his publisher to say that, in the event of the popular success of the present volume, he will cheerfully follow up its publication by a second, of like style, character, and dimensions.

The editor has seen with pleasure the volume of "Rebel Rhymes" edited by Mr. Moore, and of "South Songs," by Mr. De Leon. He has seen, besides, a single number of a periodical pamphlet called "The Southern Monthly," published at Memphis, Tenn. This has been supplied him by a contributor. He has seen no other publications of this nature, though he has heard of others, and has sought for them in vain. There may be others still forthcoming; for, in so large a field, with a population so greatly scattered as that of the South, it is a physical impossibility adequately to do justice to the whole by any one editor; and each of the sections must make its own contributions, in its own time, and according to its several opportunities. There will be room enough for all; and each, I doubt not, will possess its special claims to recognition and reward.

His own collections, made during the progress of the war, from the newspapers, chiefly, of South Carolina, Virginia, and Georgia, were copious. Of these, many have been omitted from this collection, which, he trusts, will some day find another medium of publication. He has been able to ascertain the authorship, in many cases, of these writings; but must regret still that so many others, under a too fastidious delicacy, deny that their names should be made known. It is to be hoped that they will hereafter be supplied. To the numerous ladies who have so frankly and generously contributed to this collection, by sending originals and making copies, he begs to offer his most grateful acknowledgments.

A large proportion of the pieces omitted are of elegiac character. Of this class, he could find a place for such pieces only as were dedicated to the most distinguished of the persons falling in battle, or such as are marked by the higher characteristics of poetry--freshness, thought, and imagination. But many of the omitted pieces are quite worthy of preservation. Much space has not been given to that class of songs, camp catches, or marching ballads, which are so numerous in the "Rebel Rhymes" of Mr. Moore. The songs which are most popular are rarely such as may claim poetical rank. They depend upon lively music and certain spirit-stirring catchwords, and are rarely worked up with much regard to art or even, propriety. Still, many of these should have found a place in this volume, had adequate space been allowed the editor. It is his desire, as well as that of the publisher, to collect and bind together these fugitives in yet another publication. He will preserve the manuscripts and copies of all unpublished pieces, with the view to this object--keeping them always subject to the wishes of their several writers.

At the close, he must express the hope that these poems will be recognized, not only as highly creditable to the Southern mind, but as truly illustrative, if not justificatory of, that sentiment and opinion with which they have been written; which sentiment and opinion have sustained their people through a war unexampled in its horrors in modern times, and which has fully tested their powers of endurance, as well as their ability in creating their own resources, under all reverses, and amidst every form of privation.

W.G.S.

Brooklyn, September 8, 1866.

War Poetry of the South

Table of Contents

Ethnogenesis.

Table of Contents

By Henry Timrod, of S.C.

Table of Contents

Written during the meeting of the First Southern Congress, at Montgomery, February, 1861.

I.

Table of Contents

Hath not the morning dawned with added light? And shall not evening--call another star Out of the infinite regions of the night, To mark this day in Heaven? At last, we are A nation among nations; and the world Shall soon behold in many a distant port Another flag unfurled! Now, come what may, whose favor need we court? And, under God, whose thunder need we fear? Thank Him who placed us here Beneath so kind a sky--the very sun Takes part with us; and on our errands run All breezes of the ocean; dew and rain Do noiseless battle for us; and the Year, And all the gentle daughters in her train, March in our ranks, and in our service wield Long spears of golden grain! A yellow blossom as her fairy shield, June fling's her azure banner to the wind, While in the order of their birth Her sisters pass; and many an ample field Grows white beneath their steps, till now, behold Its endless sheets unfold THE SNOW OF SOUTHERN SUMMERS! Let the earth Rejoice! beneath those fleeces soft and warm Our happy land shall sleep In a repose as deep As if we lay intrenched behind Whole leagues of Russian ice and Arctic storm!

II.

Table of Contents

And what if, mad with wrongs themselves have wrought, In their own treachery caught, By their own fears made bold, And leagued with him of old, Who long since, in the limits of the North, Set up his evil throne, and warred with God-- What if, both mad and blinded in their rage, Our foes should fling us down their mortal gage, And with a hostile step profane our sod! We shall not shrink, my brothers, but go forth To meet them, marshalled by the Lord of Hosts, And overshadowed by the mighty ghosts Of Moultrie and of Eutaw--who shall foil Auxiliars such as these? Nor these alone, But every stock and stone Shall help us; but the very soil, And all the generous wealth it gives to toil, And all for which we love our noble land, Shall fight beside, and through us, sea and strand, The heart of woman, and her hand, Tree, fruit, and flower, and every influence, Gentle, or grave, or grand; The winds in our defence Shall seem to blow; to us the hills shall lend Their firmness and their calm; And in our stiffened sinews we shall blend The strength of pine and palm!

III.

Table of Contents

Nor would we shun the battle-ground, Though weak as we are strong; Call up the clashing elements around, And test the right and wrong! On one side, creeds that dare to teach What Christ and Paul refrained to preach; Codes built upon a broken pledge, And charity that whets a poniard's edge; Fair schemes that leave the neighboring poor To starve and shiver at the schemer's door, While in the world's most liberal ranks enrolled, He turns some vast philanthropy to gold; Religion taking every mortal form But that a pure and Christian faith makes warm, Where not to vile fanatic passion urged, Or not in vague philosophies submerged, Repulsive with all Pharisaic leaven, And making laws to stay the laws of Heaven! And on the other, scorn of sordid gain, Unblemished honor, truth without a stain, Faith, justice, reverence, charitable wealth, And, for the poor and humble, laws which give, Not the mean right to buy the right to live, But life, and home, and health! To doubt the end were want of trust in God, Who, if he has decreed That we must pass a redder sea Than that which rang to Miriam's holy glee, Will surely raise at need A Moses with his rod!

IV.

Table of Contents

But let our fears-if fears we have--be still, And turn us to the future! Could we climb Some mighty Alp, and view the coming time, The rapturous sight would fill Our eyes with happy tears! Not only for the glories which the years Shall bring us; not for lands from sea to sea, And wealth, and power, and peace, though these shall be; But for the distant peoples we shall bless, And the hushed murmurs of a world's distress: For, to give labor to the poor, The whole sad planet o'er, And save from want and crime the humblest door, Is one among--the many ends for which God makes us great and rich! The hour perchance is not yet wholly ripe When all shall own it, but the type Whereby we shall be known in every land Is that vast gulf which laves our Southern strand, And through the cold, untempered ocean pours Its genial streams, that far-off Arctic shores May sometimes catch upon the softened breeze Strange tropic warmth and hints of summer seas.

God Save the South.

Table of Contents

George H. Miles, of Baltimore.

Table of Contents

God save the South! God save the South! Her altars and firesides-- God save the South! Now that the war is nigh-- Now that we arm to die-- Chanting--our battle-cry, Freedom or Death!

God be our shield! At home or a-field, Stretch Thine arm over us, Strengthen and save! What though they're five to one, Forward each sire and son, Strike till the war is done, Strike to the grave.

God make the right Stronger than might! Millions would trample us Down in their pride. Lay, thou, their legions low; Roll back the ruthless foe; Let the proud spoiler know God's on our side!

Hark! honor's call, Summoning all-- Summoning all of us Up to the strife. Sons of the South, awake! Strike till the brand shall break! Strike for dear honor's sake, Freedom and Life!

Rebels before Were our fathers of yore; Rebel, the glorious name Washington bore, Why, then, be ours the same Title he snatched from shame; Making it first in fame, Odious no more.

War to the hilt! Theirs be the guilt, Who fetter the freeman To ransom the slave. Up, then, and undismayed, Sheathe not the battle-blade? Till the last foe is laid Low in the grave.

God save the South! God save the South! Dry the dim eyes that now Follow our path. Still let the light feet rove Safe through the orange grove; Still keep the land we love Safe from all wrath.

God save the South! God save the South! Her altars and firesides-- God save the South! For the rude war is nigh, And we must win or die; Chanting our battle-cry Freedom or Death!

You Can Never Win Them Back.

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By Catherine M. Warfield.

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You can never win them back, never! never! Though they perish on the track of your endeavor; Though their corses strew the earth That smiled upon their birth, And blood pollutes each hearthstone forever!

They have risen, to a man stern and fearless; Of your curses and your ban they are careless. Every hand is on its knife; Every gun is primed for strife; Every palm contains a life high and peerless!

You have no such blood as theirs for the shedding, In the veins of Cavaliers was its heading. You have no such stately men In your abolition den, To march through foe and fen, nothing dreading.

They may fall before the fire of your legions, Paid in gold for murd'rous hire-- bought allegiance! But for every drop you shed You shall leave a mound of dead; And the vultures shall be fed in our regions.

But the battle to the strong is not given, While the Judge of right and wrong sits in heaven! And the God of David still Guides each pebble by His will; There are giants yet to kill-- wrong's unshriven.

The Southern Cross.

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By E. K. Blunt.

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In the name of God! Amen! Stand for our Southern rights; On our side, Southern men, The God of battles fights! Fling the invaders far-- Hurl back their work of woe-- The voice is the voice of a brother, But the hands are the hands of a foe. They come with a trampling army, Invading our native sod-- Stand, Southrons! fight and conquer, In the name of the mighty God!

They are singing our song of triumph,[1] Which proclaimed us proud and free-- While breaking away the heartstrings Of our nation's harmony. Sadly it floateth from us, Sighing o'er land and wave; Till, mute on the lips of the poet, It sleeps in his Southern grave. Spirit and song departed! Minstrel and minstrelsy! We mourn ye, heavy hearted,-- But we will--we will be free!

They are waving our flag above us, With the despot's tyrant will; With our blood they have stained its colors, And they call it holy still. With tearful eyes, but steady hand, We'll tear its stripes apart, And fling them, like broken fetters, That may not bind the heart. But we'll save our stars of glory, In the might of the sacred sign Of Him who has fixed forever One "Southern Cross" to shine.

Stand, Southrons! fight and conquer! Solemn, and strong, and sure! The fight shall not be longer Than God shall bid endure. By the life that but yesterday Waked with the infant's breath! By the feet which, ere morning, may Tread to the soldier's death! By the blood which cries to heaven-- Crimson upon our sod! Stand, Southrons! fight and conquer, In the name of the mighty God!

[1] The Star Spangled Banner. Written by F. S. Key, of Baltimore; all whose descendants are Confederates.

South Carolina.

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December 20, 1860.

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S. Henry Dickson.

The deed is done! the die is cast; The glorious Rubicon is passed: Hail, Carolina! free at last!

Strong in the right, I see her stand Where ocean laves the shelving sand; Her own Palmetto decks the strand.

She turns aloft her flashing eye; Radiant, her lonely star[1] on high Shines clear amidst the darkening sky.

Silent, along those azure deeps Its course her silver crescent keeps, And in soft light the landscape steeps.

Fling forth her banner to the gale! Let all the hosts of earth assail,-- Their fury and their force shall fail.

Echoes the wide resounding shore, With voice above th' Atlantic roar, Her sons proclaim her free once more!

Oh, land of heroes! Spartan State! In numbers few, in daring great, Thus to affront the frowns of fate!

And while mad triumph rules the hour, And thickening clouds of menace lower, Bear back the tide of tyrant power.

With steadfast courage, faltering never, Sternly resolved, her bonds we sever: Hail, Carolina! free forever!

[1] The flag showed a star within a crescent or new moon.

The New Star.

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By B.M. Anderson.

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Another star arisen; another flag unfurled; Another name inscribed among the nations of the world; Another mighty struggle 'gainst a tyrant's fell decree, And again a burdened people have uprisen, and are free.

The spirit of the fathers in the children liveth yet; Liveth still the olden blood which dimmed the foreign bayonet; And the fathers fought for freedom, and the sons for freedom fight; Their God was with the fathers--and is still the God of right!

Behold! the skies are darkened! A gloomy cloud hath lowered! Shall it break before the sun of peace, or spread in rage impowered? Shall we have the smile of friendship, or shall it be the blow? Shall it be the right hand to the friend, or the red hand to the foe?

In peacefulness we wish to live, but not in slavish fear; In peacefulness we dare not die, dishonored on our bier. To our allies of the Northern land we offer heart and hand, But if they scorn our friendship--then the banner and the brand!

Honor to the new-born nation! and honor to the brave! A country freed from thraldom, or a soldier's honored grave. Every step shall be contested; every rivulet run red, And the invader, should he conquer, find the conquered in the dead.

But victory shall follow where the sons of freedom go, And the signal for the onset be the death-knell of the foe; And hallowed shall the spot be where he was so bravely met, And the star which yonder rises, rises never more to set.

The Irrepressible Conflict.

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Tyrtæus.--Charleston Mercury.

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Then welcome be it, if indeed it be The Irrepressible Conflict! Let it come; There will be mitigation of the doom, If, battling to the last, our sires shall see Their sons contending for the homes made free In ancient conflict with the foreign foe! If those who call us brethren strike the blow, No common conflict shall the invader know! War to the knife, and to the last, until The sacred land we keep shall overflow With blood as sacred--valley, wave, and hill, Or the last enemy finds his bloody grave! Aye, welcome to your graves--or ours! The brave May perish, but ye shall not bind one slave.

The Southern Republic.

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By Olivia Tully Thomas, of Mississippi.

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In the galaxy of nations, A nation's flag's unfurled, Transcending in its martial pride The nations of the world. Though born of war, baptized in blood, Yet mighty from the time, Like fabled phoenix, forth she stood-- Dismembered, yet sublime.

And braver heart, and bolder hand, Ne'er formed a fabric fair As Southern wisdom can command, And Southern valor rear. Though kingdoms scorn to own her sway, Or recognize her birth, The land blood-bought for Liberty Will reign supreme on earth.

Clime of the Sun! Home of the Brave! Thy sons are bold and free, And pour life's crimson tide to save Their birthright, Liberty! Their fertile fields and sunny plains That yield the wealth alone, That's coveted for greedy gains By despots-and a throne!

Proud country! battling, bleeding, torn, Thy altars desolate; Thy lovely dark-eyed daughters mourn At war's relentless fate; And widow's prayers, and orphan's tears, Her homes will consecrate, While more than brass or marble rears The trophy of her great.

Oh! land that boasts each gallant name Of JACKSON, JOHNSON, LEE, And hosts of valiant sons, whose fame Extends beyond the sea; Far rather let thy plains become, From gulf to mountain cave, One honored sepulchre and tomb, 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; Thy banner, too, may proudly float, A herald on the seas-- Thy deeds of daring worlds remote 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 stain, Crowned with the warrior's wreath, From beds of fame their proud refrain Was "Liberty or Death!"

"Is There, Then, No Hope for the Nations?"

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Charleston Courier.

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Is there, then, no hope for the nations? Must the record of Time be the same? And shall History, in all her narrations, Still close each last chapter in shame? Shall the valor which grew to be glorious, Prove the shame, as the pride of a race: And a people, for ages victorious, Through the arts of the chapman, grow base?

Greek, Hebrew, Assyrian, and Roman, Each strides o'er the scene and departs! How valiant their deeds 'gainst the foeman, How wondrous their virtues and arts! Rude valor, at first, when beginning, The nation through blood took its name; Then the wisdom, which hourly winning New heights in its march, rose to Fame!

How noble the tale for long ages, Blending Beauty with courage and might! What Heroes, what Poets, and Sages, Made eminent stars for each height! While their people, with reverence ample. Brought tribute of praise to the Great, Whose wisdom and virtuous example, Made virtue the pride of the State!

Ours, too, was as noble a dawning, With hopes of the Future as high: Great men, each a star of the morning, Taught us bravely to live and to die! We fought the long fight with our foeman, And through trial--well-borne--won a name, Not less glorious than Grecian or Roman, And worthy as lasting a fame!

Shut the Book! We must open another! O Southron! if taught by the Past, Beware, when thou choosest a brother, With what ally thy fortunes are cast! Beware of all foreign alliance, Of their pleadings and pleasings beware, Better meet the old snake with defiance, Than find in his charming a snare!

The Fate of the Republics.

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Charleston Mercury.

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Thus, the grand fabric of a thousand years-- Rear'd with such art and wisdom--by a race Of giant sires, in virtue all compact, Self-sacrificing; having grand ideals Of public strength, and peoples capable Of great conceptions for the common good, And of enduring liberties, kept strong Through purity;--tumbles and falls apart, Lacking cement in virtue; and assail'd Within, without, by greed of avarice, And vain ambition for supremacy.

So fell the old Republics--Gentile and Jew, Roman and Greek--such evermore the record; Mix'd glory and shame, still lapsing into greed, From conquest and from triumph, into fall! The glory that we see exchanged for guilt Might yet be glory. There were pride enough, And emulous ambition to achieve,-- Both generous powers, when coupled with endowment, To do the work of States--and there were courage And sense of public need, and public welfare,-- And duty--in a brave but scattered few, Throughout the States--had these been credited To combat 'gainst the popular appetites. But these were scorn'd and set aside for naught, As lacking favor with the popular lusts! They found reward in exile or in death! And he alone who could debase his spirit, And file his mind down to the basest nature Grew capp'd with rule!--