« EelmineJätka »
Virginians of the Valley.
THE knightliest of the knightly race,
Who, since the days of old,
Alight in hearts of gold-
Who rarely hated ease,
And Raleigh round the seas !
Who climbed the blue Virginia hills,
Amid embattled foes,
The lily and the rose;
Whose beauty stars the earth,
With loveliness and worth!
We thought they slept! these sons who kept
The names of noble sires,
And slumbered, while the darkness crept
Around their vigil fires ! But still the Golden Horse-shoe knights,
Their Old Dominion keep, Whose foes have found enchanted ground,
But not a knight asleep!
The Ballad of the Right.
In other days our fathers' love was loyal, full, and
free, For those they left behind them, on the Island of
the Sea ; They fought the battles of King George and toasted
him in song, For then the Right kept proudly down the tyranny
But when the King's weak, willing slaves laid tax
upon the tea, The western men rose up and braved the Island of
the Sea; And swore a solemn oath to God, those men of
iron mightThat at their hands the Wrong should die and up
should go the Right!
The King sent over hireling hosts-Briton, Hessian,
ScotAnd swore in turn those Western men, when cap
tured, should be shot;
While Chatham spoke with earnest tongue against
the hireling throng, And mournful saw the Right go down, and place
give to the Wrong.
But God was on the righteous side, and Gideon's
sword was out, With clash of steel, and rattling drum, and freeman's
thunder-shout; And crimson torrents drenched the land through that
long, stormy fight, But in the end, hurrah! the Wrong was beaten by
the Right !
And when again the foemen came from out the
Northern Sea, To desolate our smiling land and subjugate the free, Our fathers rushed to drive them back, with rifles
keen and long, And swore a mighty oath the Right should subju
gate the Wrong.
And while the world was looking on, the strife un
But soon aloft rose up our stars amid a field of blue;
For Jackson fought on red Chalmette, and won the
glorious fight, And then the Wrong went down, hurrah! and triumph
crowned the Right!
The day has come again, when all who love the
beauteous South, Must speak, if needs be, for the Right, though by
the cannon's mouth; For foes accursed of God and man, with lying speech
Would bind, imprison, hang the Right, and deify
But canting knave of pen and sword, or sanctimo
nious fool, Shall never win this Southern land, to cripple, bind,
and rale; We'll muster on each bloody plain, thick as the stars
of night, And, through the help of God, the Wrong shall
perish by the Right.