Classic Poem

DEDICATION

When the night grows black o'er the bivouac,
And the stars gleam cold and brightly,
Let the song that cheers our cannoneers
Be sung by our camp-fires nightly.
Ere the music shall die, ere the murmurs fly,
While the melody fades, yet lingers;
An echo shall come from the " Old Folks at Home, "
And a blessing shall breathe on the singers.

SONG

For the Terrells

Aha! a song for the trumpet's tongue,
For the bugle to sing before us,
When our gleaming guns, like clarions,
Shall thunder in battle chorus!
Where the rifles ring, where the bullets sing,
Where the black bombs whistle o'er us,
With rolling wheel and rattling peal
We'll thunder in battle chorus!

CHORUS

With the cannon's flash and the cannon's crash,
With the cannon's roar and rattle,
Let Freedom's sons, with their gleaming guns,
Go down to their country's battle!
Their brassy throats shall learn the notes
That make old tyrants quiver,
'Till the war is won or each Terrell gun
Grows cold with our hearts forever.
Where the laurel waves o'er our brothers' graves,
Who have gone to their rest before us,
Here's a requiem shall sound for them,
And thunder in battle chorus!

CHORUS

With the cannon's flash and the cannon's crash,
With the cannon's roar and rattle,
Let Freedom's sons, with their gleaming guns,
Go down to their country's battle!

By the light that lies in our Southern skies,
By the spirits that watch above us;
By the gentle hands in our summer lands,
And the gentle hearts that love us,
Our Father's faith let us keep till death,
Their fame in its cloudless splendor,
As men who stand for their mother-land,
And die — but never surrender!

CHORUS

With the cannon's flash and the cannon's crash,
With the cannon's roar and rattle,
Let Freedom's sons, with their gleaming guns,
Go down to their country's battle!