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Virginians of the Valley.

SIC JURAT.

THE knightliest of the knightly race,

Who, since the days of old,
Have kept the lamp of chivalry

Alight in hearts of gold-
The kindliest of the kindly band

Who rarely hated ease,
Who rode with Smith around the land

And Raleigh round the seas !

Who climbed the blue Virginia hills,

Amid embattled foes,
And planted there, in valleys fair,

The lily and the rose;
Whose fragrance lives in many lands,

Whose beauty stars the earth,
And lights the hearths of many homes

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

of Wrong.

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

certain grew,

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

and song,

Would bind, imprison, hang the Right, and deify

the Wrong.

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.

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