Songs of Love and Liberty.
Compiled by a North Carolina Lady:
Electronic Edition.
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First edition, 2000
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Academic Affairs Library, UNC-CH
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill,
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Source Description:
(title page) Songs of Love and Liberty. Compiled by a North Carolina
Lady
A North Carolina Lady
62 p.
RALEIGH, N. C.,
BRANSON & FARRAR, FAYETTEVILLE STREET,
1864
Call number VC811.08 M82s (North Carolina Collection, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill)
The electronic edition is a part of the UNC-CH
digitization project, Documenting the
American South.
The text has been
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Library of Congress Subject Headings, 21st edition, 1998
Languages Used:
- English
LC Subject Headings:
- Love songs -- Confederate States of America -- Texts.
- Liberty -- Songs and music -- Texts.
- Confederate States of America -- Poetry.
- Confederate States of America -- Songs and music -- Texts.
- United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Poetry.
- United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Songs and music -- Texts.
Revision History:
- 2000-11-21,
Celine Noel and Wanda Gunther
revised TEIHeader and created catalog record for the electronic edition.
-
2000-10-04,
Natalia Smith, project manager,
finished TEI-conformant encoding and final proofing.
-
2000-09-25,
Lee Ann Morawski
finished TEI/SGML encoding
- 2000-08-25,
Apex Data Services, Inc.
finished transcribing the text.
SONGS
OF
LOVE AND LIBERTY.
COMPILED BY
A NORTH CAROLINA LADY
RALEIGH, N. C.,
BRANSON & FARRAR,
FAYETTEVILLE STREET,
1864
Page 3
SONGS OF
LOVE AND LIBERTY.
"We Conquer or Die."
Composed by Jas. Pierpont.
The war drum is beating, prepare for the fight,
The stern bigot Northman exults in his might;
Gird on your bright weapons, your foemen are nigh
And this be our watchword, "We conquer or die."
The trumpet is sounding from mountain to shore,
Your swords and your lances must slumber no more,
Fling forth to the sunlight your banner on high,
Inscribed with the watchword, "We conquer or die."
March on the battlefield, there to do or dare,
With shoulder to shoulder, all danger to share,
And let your proud watchword ring up to the sky,
Till the blue arch re-echoes, "We conquer or die."
Press forward undaunted nor think of retreat,
The enemy's host on the threshold to meet;
Strike firm, till the foeman before you shall fly,
Appalled by the watchword, "We conquer or die."
Page 4
Go forth in the pathway our forefathers trod,
We, too, fight for freedom--our Captain is God,
Their blood in our veins, with their honors we vie,
Theirs, too, was the watchword, "We conquer or die."
We strike for the South--Mountain, Valley and Plain,
For the South we will conquer again and again;
Her day of salvation and triumph is nigh,
Ours, then, be the watchword, "We conquer or die."
From the Greenville, Ala. Observer,
War Song of the Partizan Rangers.
DEDICATED TO CAPT. JOHN H. MORGAN.
By Benjamin F. Porter.
AIR:--"McGregor's Gathering."
The forests are green by the homes of the South,
But the hearth-stones are red with the blood of her youth:
Unfurl the black banner o'er mountain and vale,
Let the war-cry of vengeance swell loud on the gale.
CHORUS.
Then gather, gather, gather, gather, gather,
While there's leaf in the forest, and foam on the river,
The cry of the South shall be Vengeance Forever!
Each drop of the blood of our children they've shed,
Our foes shall atone for, in heaps of their dead!
The signal for fight which our forefathers knew,
Shall be heard in their midst in our vengeful halloo.
CHORUS.--Then gather, &c.
Page 5
Thro' their cities our horsemen with sword and with flame,
Shall carry the dread of the Southerner's name!
At the sound of our bugles their strong men shall quail,
And the cheeks of their wives and their mothers turn pale.
CHORUS.--Then gather, &c.,
They have blasted our fields--they have slaughtered our youth,
And dishonered the names of the maids of the South;
But the rivers shall dry, and the mountains be riven,
Ere vengeance be quenched or our wrongs be forgiven.
CHORUS.--Then gather, &c.
Then rally from forest and rally from ford,
Give their homes to the flame and their sons to the sword;
While a child shall be born in the South, let its cry
Be "Death to the Northman, and vengeance for aye!"
CHORUS.--Then gather, &c.
Listen to the Mocking Bird.
I'm dreaming now of Hally, sweet Hally, sweet Hally,
I'm dreaming now of Hally,
For the thought of her is one that never dies;
She is sleeping in the valley, the valley, the valley,
She is sleeping in the valley,
And the mocking bird is singing where she lies.
Page 6
Listen to the mocking bird,
Listen to the mocking bird,
The mocking bird still singing o'er her grave;
Listen to the mocking bird,
Listen to the mocking bird,
Still singing where the weeping wlllows wave.
Ah! well I yet remember, remember, remember,
Ah! well I yet remember,
When we gathered in the cotton side by side,
'Twas in the mild September, September, September,
'Twas in the mild September,
And the mocking bird was singing far and wide.
Listen to the mocking bird,
Listen to the mocking bird,
The mocking bird still singing o'er her grave,
Listen to the mocking bird,
Listen to the mocking bird,
Still singing where the weeping willows wave.
When the charms of spring awaken, awaken, awaken,
When the charms of spring awaken,
And the mocking bird is singing on the bough,
I feel like one forsaken, forsaken, forsaken,
I feel like one forsaken,
Since my Hally is no longer with me now.
Listen to the mocking bird,
Listen to the mocking bird,
The mocking bird still singing o'er her grave,
Listen to the mocking bird,
Listen to the mocking bird,
Still singing where the weeping willows wave.
Page 7
Fairy Belle.
The pride of the village, and the fairest in the dell,
Is the queen of my song, and her name is Fairy Belle;
The sound of her light step may be heard upon the hill,
Like the fall of the snow-drop or the dripping of the rill.
CHORUS.
Fairy Belle, gentle Fairy Belle,
The star of the night and the lily of the day,
Fairy Belle, the queen of all the dell,
Long may she revel on her bright sunny way.
She sings to the meadows, and she carols to the streams,
She laughs in the sunlight, and smiles while in her dreams;
Her hair, like the thistle down, is borne upon the air,
And her heart like the humming bird's, is free from every care.
CHORUS.--Fairy Belle, &c.
Her soft notes of melody around me sweetly fall;
Her eye full of love, is now beaming on my soul;
The sound of that gentle voice, the glance of that eye,
Surround me with rapture that no other heart could sigh.
CHORUS.--Fairy Belle, &c.
Dearest Spot of Earth.
By W. T. Wrighton.
The dearest spot of earth to me
Is home, sweet home!
The fairy land I long to see
Is home, sweet home.
Page 8
There how charmed the sense of hearin
There where love is so endearing!
All the world is not so cheering
As home, sweet home!
CHORUS.
The dearest spot of earth to me
Is home, sweet home!
The fairy land I long to see
Is home, sweet home!
I've taught my heart the way to prize
My home, sweet home!
I've learned to look with lover's eyes
On home, sweet home!
There, where vows are truly plighted!
There, where hearts are so united!
All the world besides I've slighted
For home, sweet home!
The dearest spot of earth, &c.
Do They Miss Me at Home.
Do they miss me at home, do they miss me?
'Twould be an assurance most dear,
To know that this moment some loved one
Were saying I wish he were here,
To feel that the group at the fireside
Were thinking of me as I roam,
Oh, yes, 'twould be joy beyond measure
To know that they miss me at home,
To know that they miss me at home.
Page 9
When twilight approaches, the season
That ever is sacred to song,
Does some one repeat my name over,
And sigh that I tarry so long?
And is there a chord in the music
That's miss'd when my voice is away,
And a chord in each heart that awaketh
Regret at my wearisome stay,
Regret at my wearisome stay?
Do they set me a chair near the table,
When ev'ning's home pleasures are nigh,
When the candles are lit in the parlor,
And the stars in the calm azure sky?
And when the "good nights" are repeated,
And all lay them down to their sleep,
Do they think of the absent, and waft me
A whispered "good night" while they weep,
A whispered "good night" while they weep?
Do they miss me at home--do they miss me
At morning, at noon, or at night,
And lingers one gloomy shade round them
That only my presence can light?
Are joys less invitingly welcome,
And pleasures less hale than before,
Because one is miss'd from the circle,
Because I am with them no more,
Because I am with them no more?
Page 10
There's Life in the Old Land Yet.
Words by James R. Randall.
By blue Patapsco's billowy dash,
The tyrant's war-shout comes
Along with the cymbal's fitful clash,
And the growl of his sullen drums;
We hear it--we heed it--with vengeful thrills,
And we shall not forgive or forget--
There's faith in the streams, there's hope in the hills,
There's life in the Old Land yet!
Minions! we sleep, but we are not dead;
We are crushed, we are scourged, we are scarred:
We crouch--'tis to welcome the triumph tread
Of the peerless Beauregard.
Then woe to your vile, polluting horde,
When the Southern braves are met--
There's faith in the victor's stainless sword,
There's life in the Old Land yet.
Bigots! ye quell not the valiant mind,
With the clank of an iron chain--
The spirit of Freedom sings in the wind
O'er Merryman, Thomas and Kane;
And we, though we smite not, are not thralls--
We are piling a gory debt;
While down by McHenry's dungeon walls,
There's life in the Old Land yet!
Our women have hung their harps away,
And they scowl on your brutal bands,
While the nimble poignard dares the day
In their dear, defiant hands;
Page 11
They will strip their tresses to string our bows,
Ere the Northern sun is set--
There's faith in their unrelenting woes--
There's life in the Old Land yet!
There's life, though it throbbeth in silent veins--
'Tis vocal without noise--
It gushes o'er Manassa's solemn plains
From the blood of the Maryland boys.
That blood shall cry aloud, and rise
With an everlasting threat--
By the death of the brave, by the God in the skies,
There's life in the Old Land yet!
Bonny Jean.
O the summer is brightly glowing,
The wild birds wake their song,
And the streamlet, as it' softly murmurs,
So gently glides along,
CHORUS.
Where the sweet hedge-rose is blowing,
In the woodlands green;
There I love to wander with my heart's true queen,
My bonny, bonny Jean.
Yet, 'tis not the rosy tint of summer,
Nor the song-bird's joyous lay,
Nor the streamlet's soft and murmuring music,
That makesmy heart feel gay;
Page 12
CHORUS.
'Tis her smile that beams upon me, 'mid each flow'ry scene;
While I love to wander with my heart's true queen,
My bonny, bonny Jean.
"Bonny Jean," your smiles are always with me,
When absent, love, from thee,
Making joy and sunshine round my path way,
Wherever I may be,
CHORUS.
May they ever beam upon me, in this mortal scene;
While I fondly wander with my heart's true queen,
My bonny, bonny Jean.
Dixie War Song.
Words by H. S. Stanton, Esq.
Hear ye not the sounds of battle,
Sabres clash and muskets rattle?
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
Hostile footsteps on our border,
Hostile columns tread in order,
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
CHORUS.
Oh, fly to arms in Dixie!
To arms! to arms!
From Dixie's land we'll route the band,
That comes to conquer Dixie,
To arms!
To arms! and route the foe from Dixie.
Page 13
See the red smoke hanging o'er us!
Hear the cannon's booming chorus!
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
See our steady columns forming,
Hear the shouting! hear the storming!
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
CHORUS.--Oh, fly to arms in Dixie! &c.
Gird your loins with sword and sabre,
Give your lives to freedom's labor!
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
What though every hearth be saddened?
What though all the land be reddened?
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
CHORUS.--Oh, fly to arms in Dixie! &c.
Shall this boasting, mad invader
Trample Dixie and degrade her?
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
By our fathers' proud example!
Southern soil they shall not trample!
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
CHORUS.--Oh, fly to arms in Dixie! &c.
Southrons meet them on the border!
Charge them into wild disorder!
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
Hew the Vandals down before you!
Till the last inch they restore you!
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
CHORUS.--Oh, fly to arms in Dixie! &c.
Through the echoing hills resounding,
Hear, the Southern bugles sounding,
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
Arouse from every hill and valley,
List the bugle! rally! rally!
To arms! to arms! to arms in Dixie!
CHORUS.--Oh, fly to arms in Dixie! &c.
Page 14
The Cottage by the Sea.
Childhood's days now pass before me,
Forms and scenes of long ago,
Like a dream they hover o'er me,
Calm and bright as evening's glow;
Days that knew no shade of sorrow,
When my young heart, pure and free,
Joyful hail'd each coming morrow,
In the cottage by the sea,
Joyful hail'd each coming morrow,
In the cottage, the cottage by the sea.
Fancy sees the rose-tree twining
Round the old and rustic door,
And below the white beach shining,
Where I gather'd shells of yore,
Hears my mother's gentle warning,
As she took me on her knee;
And I feel again life's morning,
In the cottage by the sea,
And I feel again life's morning,
In the cottage, the cottage by the sea.
What though years have rolled above me,
Though mid fairer scenes 1 roam,
Yet I ne'er shall cease to love thee,
Childhood's dear and happy home!
And when life's long day is closing,
Oh, how pleasant would it be,
On some faithful breast reposing,
In the cottage by the sea,
On some faithful breast reposing,
In the cottage, the cottage by the
Page 15
The Officer's Funeral.
Hark! to the shrill trumphet calling,
It pierceth the soft summer air!
Tears from each comrade are falling,
For the widow and orphan are there!
The bayonets earthward are turning,
And the drum's muffled breath rolls around,
But he hears not the voice of their mourning,
Nor awakes to the bugle's sound;
But he hears not the voice of their mourning,
Nor awakes to the bugle's sound.
Sleep, soldier! tho' many regret thee,
Who stand by thy cold bier to-day,
Soon, soon shall the kindest forget thee,
And thy name from the earth pass away.
The man thou didst love as a brother,
A friend in thy place will have gained,
Thy dog shall keep watch for another,
And thy steed by a stranger be rein'd,
Thy dog shall keep watch for another,
And thy steed by a stranger be rein'd,
But tho' hearts that now mourn for thee sadly,
Soon joyous as ever shall be,
Tho' thy bright orphan boy may laugh gladly,
As he sits on some comrade's kind knee,
There is ONE who shall still pay the duty
Of tears for the true and the brave,
As when first in the bloom of her beauty,
She wept o'er the soldier's grave,
As when first in the bloom of her beauty
She wept o'er the soldier's grave.
Page 16
Ever of Thee.
Words by G. Linley.
Ever of thee I'm fondly dreaming,
Thy gentle voice my spirit it can cheer;
Thou wert the star that mildly beaming,
Shone o'er my path when all was dark and drear.
Still in my heart thy form I cherish,
Every kind thought like a bird flies to thee;
Oh! never till life and mem'ry perish,
CHORUS.
Can I forget how dear thou art to me;
Morn, noon and night, where'er I may be,
Fondly I'm dreaming ever of thee!
Fondly I'm dreaming ever of thee!
Ever of thee, when sad and lonely,
Wandering afar my soul joy'd to dwell;
Ah! then I felt I loved thee only;
All seem'd to fade before affection's spell.
Years have not chill'd the love I cherish;
True as the stars hath my heart been to thee;
Ah! never till life and mem'ry perish,
CHORUS.--Can I forget, &c.
I See Her Still in My Dreams.
While the flow'rs bloom in gladness and spring birds rejoice,
There's a void in our household of one gentle voice.
The form of a loved one hath passed from the light,
But the sound of her foot-fall returns with the night.
Page 17
CHORUS.
For I see her still in my dreams, I see her still in my dreams,
Though her smiles have departed from the meadows and the streams,
I see her still in my dreams, I see her still in my dreams,
Though her smiles have departed from the meadows and the streams.
Tho her voice once familiar, hath gone from the day,
And her smiles from the sunlight have faded away,
Though I wake to a scene now deserted and bleak,
In my visions I find the lost form that I seek,
CHORUS,--For I see her still in my dreams, &c.
The Bonnie Blue Flag.
Words and Music by Harry Macarthy.
We are a band of brothers, and native to the soil,
Fighting for the property we gained by honest toil,
And when our rights were threatened, the cry rose near and far,
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star,
CHORUS.
Hurrah! Hurrah! for Southern Rights! Hurrah!
Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star!
Page 18
As long as the Union was faithful to her trust,
Like friends and like brothers we were kind, we were just;
But now, when Northern treachery attempts our rights to mar,
We hoist on high the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star!
CHORUS.--Hurrah! &c.
First, gallant South Carolina nobly made the stand;
Then came Alabama, who took her by the hand;
Next, quickly Mississippi, Georgia and Florida,
All raised on high the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star!
CHORUS.--Hurrah! &c.
Ye men of Valor, gather 'round the banner of the Right!
Texas and fair Louisiana join us in the fight;
Davis, our loved President, and Stephens, statesmen rare,
Now rally 'round the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star!
CHORUS.--Hurrah! &c.
And here's to brave Virginia! the Old Dominion State;
With the young Confederacy at length has link'd her fate,
Impelled by her example, now other States prepare
To hoist on high the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star!
CHORUS.--Hurrah! &c.
Page 19
Then, here's to our Confederacy! strong we are and brave,
Like patriots of old, we'll fight our heritage to save;
And rather than submit to shame, to die we would prefer;
So cheer for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star!
CHORUS--Hurrah! &c.,
Then cheer, boys, cheer; raise the joyous shout;
Arkansas and North Carolina now have both gone out,
And let another rousing cheer for Tennessee be given--
The single star on the Bonnie Blue Flag has grown to be eleven.
CHORUS.--Hurrah! &c.
And now to Missouri we extend both heart and hand
And welcome her a sister of our Confederate band;
Tho surrounded by oppression no tyrant dare deter
Her adding to our Bonnie Blue Flag her bright and twelfth star.
CHORUS.--Hurrah! Hurrah! for Southern Rights! Hurrah!
Hurrah! for the Bonnie Blue Flag has gained its twelfth star.
Page 20
The Confederate Flag.
Written by Mrs. C. D. Elder, of New Orleans.
[The Music of this glorious anthem is by Sig. G. George, of Norfolk, Virginia.]
Bright banner of Freedom, with pride I unfold thee!
Fair flag of my country, with love I behold thee,
Gleaming above us in freshness and youth--
Emblem of Liberty--symbol of Truth.
CHORUS.
For this flag of my country in triumph shall wave
O'er the Southerner's home and the Southerner's grave.
All bright are the stars that are beaming upon us,
And bold are the bars that are gleaming above us--
The one shall increase in their number and light,
The other grow bolder in power and might.
CHORUS.--For this flag of my country in triumph shall wave, &c.
Those bars of bright red show our firm resolution
To die, if need be, shielding thee from pollution;
For man, in this hour, must give all he holds dear,
And woman her prayers and her words of high cheer.
CHORUS.--If they wish their fair banner in triumph to wave, &c.
To the great God of battles we look for reliance--
On our fierce Northern foe with contempt and defiance
Page 21
For the South shall smile on in her fragrance and bloom
When the North is fast sinking in silence and gloom.
CHORUS.--For the flag of our country in triumph must wave, &c.
The Volunteer.
Words and Music by Harry Macarthy.
I leave my home and thee dear,
With sorrow at my heart,
It is my country's call, dear,
To aid her I depart;
And on the blood-red battle plain,
We'll conquer or we'll die;
'Tis for our honor and our name,
We raise the battle cry.
CHORUS.
Then weep not, dearest, weep not,
If in her cause I fall,
O weep not, dearest, weep not,
It is my country's call.
And yet my heart is sore, love,
To see thee weeping thus;
But mark me, there's no fear, love,
For in heaven is our trust;
And if the heavy drooping tear
Swells in my mourful eye,
It is that Northmen of our land
Should cause the battle-cry.
CHORUS.--Then weep not, dearest, &c.
Page 22
Our rights have been usurped, dear,
By Northmen of our land,
Fanatics raised the cry, dear,
Politicians fired the brand.
The Southrons spurn the galling yoke,
The tyrant's threats defy,
They find we've sons like sturdy oak
To raise the battle-cry.
CHORUS.--Then weep not, dearest, &c.
I knew you'd let me go, pet,
I saw it in that tear,
To join the gallant men, pet,
Who never yet knew fear.
With Beauregard and Davis,
We'll gain our cause or die,
Win battles like Manassas,
And raise our battle-cry.
CHORUS.--Then weep uot, dearest, &
Let me Kiss Him for His Moth
Words and Music by J. P. Ordway.
Let me kiss him for his mother,
Let me kiss his dear youthful brow;
I will love him for his Mother,
And seek her blessing now.
Kind friends have soothed his pillow,
Have watched his every care,
Beneath the weeping willow,
Oh lay him gently there.
Page 23
CHORUS.
Sleep, dearest, sleep,
I love you as a brother;
Kind friends around you weep,
I've kissed you for your Mother.
Let me kiss him for his Mother,
What though left a lone stranger here,
She has loved him as none other,
I feel her blessing near.
Though cold that form lies sleeping,
Sweet angels watch around,
Dear friends are near thee weeping,
O lay him gently gently down.
CHORUS.--Sleep, dearest, sleep, &c.
Let me kiss him for his Mother,
Or perchance a fond sister dear;
If a father or a brother,
I know their blessing's here.
Then kiss him for his Mother,
'Twill sooth her after years,
Farewell, dear stranger, brother,
Our requiems, our tears.
CHORUS.--Sleep, dearest, sleep, &c.
Page 24
Annie Laurie.
Maxwelton Braes are bonnie,
Where early fa's the dew,
And it's there that Annie Laurie
Gie'd me her promise true,
Gie'd me her promise true,
Which ne'er forgot will be;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me down and dee.
Her brow is like the snow drift--
Her throat is like the swan,
Her face it is the fairest,
That e'er the sun shone on--
That e'er the sun shone on--
And dark blue is her e'e;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me down and dee.
Like the dew on the gowan lying,
Is the fa' o' her fairy feet,
And like the winds in summer sighing
Her voice is low and sweet,
Her voice is low and sweet,
And she's a' the world to me,
And for bonnie Annie Laurie,
I'd lay me down and dee.
Page 25
Lorena.
The years creep slowly by, Lorena,
The snow is on the grass again,
The sun's low down the sky, Lorena;
The frost gleams where the flowers have been,
But the heart throbs on as warmly now;
As when the summer days were nigh,
Oh! the sun can never dip so low
A down affection's cloudless sky.
A hundred months have passed, Lorena,
Since last I held that hand in mine,
And felt thy pulse beat fast, Lorena,
Though mine beat faster far than thine;
A hundred months, 'twas flow'ry May,
When up the hilly slope we climbed,
To watch the dying of the day,
And hear the distant church-bells chime.
We loved each other then, Lorena,
More than we ever cared to tell;
And what we might have been, Lorena,
Had but our lovings prospered well;
But then, 'tis past, the years are gone,
I'll not call up their shadowy forms,
I'll say to them, "lost years sleep on,
Sleep on, nor heed life's pelting storm."
The story of the past, Lorena,
Alas! I care not to repeat,
The hopes that could not last, Lorena,
They lived, but only lived to cheat;
Page 26
I would not cause even one regret
To rankle in your bosom now;
For "if we try we may forget,"
Were words of thine long years ago.
Yes these were words of thine, Lorena,
They burn within my memory yet;
They touched some tender chords, Lorena,
That thrill and tremble with regret;
'Twas not thy woman's heart that spoke,
Thy heart was always true to me,
A duty stern and pressing broke
The tie which linked my soul to thee.
It matters little now, Lorena,
The past is in the eternal past,
Our heads will soon lie low, Lorena,
Life's tide is ebbing out so fast.
There is a future oh! thank God!
Of life this is so small a part!
'Tis dust to dust, beneath the sod,
But there, up there, 'tis heart to heart.
Paul Vane, or Lorena's Reply.
The years are creeping slowly by, dear Paul,
The winters come and go;
The winds sweep past with mournful cry, dear Paul,
And pelt my face with snow;
But there's no snow upon the heart, dear Paul,
'Tis summer always there;
Those early loves throw sunshine over all,
And sweeten mem'ries dear.
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I thought it easy to forget, dear Paul,
Life glowed with youthful hope;
The glorious future gleamed yet, dear Paul,
And bade us clamber up;
They frowning said, "it must not, can not be;
Break now the hopeless bonds!"
And Paul, you know how well that bitter day,
I bent to their commands.
I've kept you ever in my heart, dear Paul,
Through years of good and ill;
Our souls could not be torn apart, dear Paul,
They're bound together still.
I never knew how dear you were to me
Till I was left alone;
I thought my poor, poor heart would break the day
They told me you were gone.
Perhaps we'll never, never meet, dear Paul,
Upon this earth again;
But there, where happy angels greet, dear Paul,
You'll meet Lorena there.
Togther up the ever shining way,
We'll press with hoping heart--
Together through the bright eternal day,
And never more to part.
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Lady of the Lake.
I loved thee in my days of joy,
When thou wast but a slender boy;
I loved thee when our hearts were light,
And youth's gay charms were fond and bright;
Sweet mem'ry o'er me casts a spell!
On those loved hours, oh let me dwell!
When at the sound of thy dear voice,
My cheek would flush, my heart rejoice.
Thine eye's sweet flash I'll ne'er forget,
Nor those sweet smiles when e'er we met;
If I were sad thy smiles would cheer--
Thou always smiled when I was near.
But years have flown since then, and now,
The stamp of manhood's on thy brow;
Oh! surely we have sadly changed--
Fore'er our hearts are now estranged.
And now when clouds of sorrow roll,
And bitter griefs oppress my soul;
Thy hand no longer dries the tear,
Nor wipes away the flood of care.
And thou may'st wed a fairer flower,
And bless the happy nuptial bower,
But will your thoughts not sometimes stray
To me perhaps, when far away?
And I may be another's bride,
And the deep sea may us divide,
Still, still, I can not thee forget--
I love thee oh! I love thee yet!
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But fare thee well! I'd rather make
My bower upon some icy lake,
Where thawing suns refuse to shine,
Than trust a love so false as thine!
My Wife and Child.
The tattoo beats, the lights are gone,
The camp around in slumber lies;
The night with solemn pace moves on,
And sad uneasy thoughts arise.
I think of thee oh, dearest one!
Whose love my early life hath blest;
Of thee and him our baby son,
Who slumbers on thy gentle breast.
God of the tender, hover near
To her whose watchful eye is wet;
The mother, wife--the doubly dear,
And cheer her drooping spirits yet.
Now while she kneels before thy Throne,
Oh, teach her, Ruler of the skies!
No tear is wept to thee unknown,
No hair is lost, no sparrow dies;
That thou canst stay the ruthless hand
Of dark disease, and soothe its pain;
That only by thy stern command
The battle's lost, the soldier slain;
By day, by night--in joy or woe--
By fears oppressed or hopes beguiled;
From ever danger, every foe,
Oh, God! protect my wife and child!
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All Quiet along the Potomac To-night.
All quiet along the Potomac to night,
Except here and there a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat to and fro,
By a riflemen hid in the thicket.
'Tis nothing, a private or two now and then
Will not count in the news of the battle:
Not an officer lost, only one of the men
Moaning out all alone the death rattle.
"All quiet along the Potomac to-night,"
While the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming
And their tents in the rays of the clear autum moon,
And the light of the camp fires are gleaming.
A tremulous sigh as the gentle night wind
Thro' the forest leaves slowly is creeping,
While the stars up above with their glittering eyes,
Keep guard o'er the army while sleeping.
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread,
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two on the low trundle bed,
Far away in the cot on the mountain.
His musket falls slack, his face dark and grim,
Grows gentle with memories tender,
As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep;
And their mother--"may Heaven defend her."
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Then drawing his sleeves roughly over his eyes
He dashes off the tears that are welling,
And gathers his gun close up to his breast,
As if to keep down the heart-swelling.
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine tree,
And his footstep is lagging and weary,
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt-of light,
Towards the shades of the forest so dreary.
Hark! was it the night wind that rustled the leaves?
Was it the moonlight, so wondrously flashing?
It looked like a rifle! "Ha! Mary, good bye!"
And the life-blood is ebbing and splashing.
"All quiet along the Potomac to-night,"
No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead,
The picket's off duty forever.
The moon seems to shine as brightly as then--
That night, when the love yet unspoken,
Leaped up to his lips and when low murmured vows
Were pledged to be ever unbroken.
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When Other Friends are Round Thee.
When other friends are round thee,
And other hearts are thine;
When other bays have crowned thee,
More fresh and green than mine:
Then think how sad and lonely
This bleeding heart will be;
Which while it throbs, throbs only,
Beloved one, for thee.
Nay, do not think I doubt thee;
I know thy truth remains;
I would not live without thee,
For all the world contains.
Thou art the star that guides me
Across life's troubled sea;
Whatever fate betide me
This heart will cling to thee.
I'll Hang My Harp on the Willow
Tree.
I'll hang my harp on the willow tree,
And I'll off to the wars again,
My peaceful home has no charms for me;
The battle-field no pain.
The lady I love will soon be a bride,
With a diadem on her brow.
Oh! why did she flatter