DIXIE. [The original of this popular Southern song, of which there were many variations during the war, is believed to be a Northern melody-an old negro refrain, dating back to the time when slavery existed in New York; a certain Mr. Dixy, or Dixie, owning large tracts of land on Manhattan Island, and many slaves, among whom the estate was known as "Dixie's Land."] SOUTHRONS, hear your country call you! Up, lest worse than death befall you! To arms! To arms! To arms, in Dixie! Lo! all the beacon-fires are lighted Let all hearts be now united ! To arms! To arms! To arms, in Dixie! For Dixie's land we take our stand, To arms! To arms! And conquer peace for Dixie! To arms! To arms! And conquer peace for Dixie! Hear the Northern thunders mutter! Send them back your fierce defiance! Advance the flag of Dixie! Fear no danger! Shun no labor! Shoulder pressing close to shoulder, Advance the flag of Dixie! How the South's great heart rejoices For faith betrayed, and pledges broken, Advance the flag of Dixie ! Strong as lions, swift as eagles, Cut the unequal bonds asunder! Advance the flag of Dixie! Swear upon your country's altar To arms! Till the spoilers are defeated, Advance the flag of Dixie! Halt not till our Federation Secures among earth's powers its station! Then at peace, and crowned with glory, Advance the flag of Dixie! If the loved ones weep in sadness, Exultant pride soon vanish sorrow; Smiles chase tears away to-morrow. To arms! To arms! To arms, in Dixie ! Advance the flag of Dixie ! Hurrah! hurrah! For Dixie's land we take our stand, And conquer peace for Dixie! To arms! To arms! And conquer peace for Dixie! ALBERT PIKE. THE NINETEENTH OF APRIL. [Boston, 1861.] THIS year, till late in April, the snow fell thick and light; Thy truce-flag, friendly Nature, in clinging drifts of white Hung over field and city; now everywhere is seen, In place of that white quietness, a sudden glow of green. The verdure climbs the Common, beneath the leafless trees, To where the glorious Stars and Stripes are floating on the breeze. There, suddenly as Spring awoke from Winter's snow-draped gloom, The passion-flower of Seventy-six is bursting into bloom. Dear is the time of roses, when earth to joy is wed, And garden-plat and meadow wear one generous flush of red; But now in dearer beauty, to her ancient colors true, Blooms the old town of Boston in red and white and blue. Along the whole awakening North are those bright emblems spread; A summer noon of patriotism is burning overhead; No party badges flaunting now, no word of clique or clan; But "Up for God and Union!" is the shout of every man. Oh, peace is dear to Northern hearts; our hardearned homes more dear; But freedom is beyond the price of any earthly cheer; And freedom's flag is sacred: he who would work it harm, Let him, although a brother, beware our strong right arm! A brother! ah, the sorrow, the anguish of that word! The fratricidal strife begun, when will its end be heard? Not this the boon that patriots' hearts have prayed and waited for; We loved them, and we longed for peace: but they would have it war. Yes, war! on this memorial day, the day of Lexington, A lightning-thrill along the wires from heart to heart has run. Brave men we gazed on yesterday, to-day for us have bled: Again is Massachusetts blood the first for freedom shed. To war, and with our brethren, then, if only this can be! Life hangs as nothing in the scale against dear Liberty! Though hearts be torn asunder, for freedom we will fight: Our blood may seal the victory, but God will shield the right! LUCY LARCOM. THE STRIPES AND THE STARS. O STAR-SPANGLED BANNER! the flag of our pride! Though trampled by traitors and basely defied, Fling out to the glad winds your red, white, and blue, For the heart of the Northland is beating for you! And her strong arm is nerving to strike with a will, Till the foe and his boastings are humbled and still! Here's welcome to wounding and combat and scars And the glory of death-for the Stripes and the Stars! From prairie, O ploughman! speed boldly away- Let smith leave his anvil and weaver his loom, Invincible banner! the flag of the free, Oh, where treads the foot that would falter for thee? |