By J. A. Waginer. Charleston Courier.

Arise! arise! with main and might,
Sons of the sunny clime!
Gird on the sword; the sacred fight
The holy hour doth chime.
Arise, the craven host draws nigh,
In thundering array;
Arise! ye braves! let cowards fly—
The hero bides the fray.

Strike hard, strike hard, thou noble band;
Strike hard with arm of fire!
Strike hard, for God and fatherland,
For mother, wife, and sire!
Let thunders roar, the lightning flash
Bold Southrons never fear
The bay’net’s point, the sabre’s crash—
True Southrons, do and dare!

Bright flow’rs spring from the hero’s grave;
The craven knows no rest!
Thrice curs’d the traitor and the knave!
The hero thrice is bless’d.
Then let each noble Southron stand,
With bold and manly eye:
We’ll do for God and fatherland;
We’ll do, we’ll do, or die!