CAMPAIGN BALLAD.

By Rev. J. E. Carnes.

Young Florida sends forth her clan—the old Dominion’s brave,
With sons of Texas, lead the van to glory or the grave;
Now, by the fame of Yorktown’s name, and by the Alamo,
The sons will not the fathers shame, though mightier be the foe.

From desecrated Maryland come out a faithful few,
And old Kentucky sends a band to God and Freedom true;
There comes a thrill from Sharpsburg’s rill—and from the “bloody ground,”
Heap’d with the mounds of Perryville, the spectral slogans sound!

And Alabama’s well-tried host into the Grey line wheels,
From wasted farms, beleaguered coast, from Florence to Mobile;
The torch-lit home, whence kindred roam, has lent its wings their fire;
And wrongs, tear-writ in mem’ry’s tome, to deeds of blood inspire.

Ho, Louisiana! vengeance fraught by rapine’s hellish scenes,
Comes vanward with the blended thought of Mansfield—New Orleans;
By spicy groves, where beauty roves, and where the Yankees swarm,
With vandal feet, in hireling droves, she swears her vengeance warm.

Arkansas strikes Missouri’s hand—they cross the bayonet,
Each thinking of a glorious band with blood of kindred met;
They bless the Post, whose little host fought all but treason well;
And Elkhorn’s grief and Springfield’s boast their patriot bosoms swell.

From where the cypress droppeth down tear-dews on Jackson’s tomb;
From where the darkest mountains frown, and brightest valleys bloom,
All broad of breast, with lance in rest, and in their swift-streams free,
Pour down the bravest and the best of sinewy Tennessee.

With Vicksburg boiling in their veins, the Mississippians cheer,
With wildest joy, the trumpet-strains that speak the battle near;
O hear! O hark! the name of Stark is passed along the line—
A thousand eyes more keenly mark where gathering foes combine.

From Chickamauga to the flames that o’er Savannah glare,
Inspired by Bee and Barton’s names the Georgians, too are there;
By the sad path of Sherman’s wrath all thro’ their staid old state,
They swear themselves to deeds of scath, and righteous love of hate!

The Carolinas seek the fray—the scarr’d of every fight,
From far Manassas’ glorious day to Fisher’s bloody night;
Grand deeds of old their hearts unfold, and later memories clasp,
While rifle stock and hilt of gold are griped with fiercer grasp.

Now make one more immortal plain, ye men of battle skill,
Ye of the comprehensive brain and the undaunted will;
Now, Robert Lee! there comes to thee the all-decisive hour!
God make thy flashing blade to be the lightning of his power!

Now, Beauregard and Johnston, now as in your other fight,
With mutual heart and answering brow inspire the hosts of right!
Now, Bragg and Hood, who oft withstood, and oft have charged the foe,
Come with a hand and will as good to lay the vandal low.

Rise, Longstreet, with a face that shines as bright as battle’s flash,
Where’er along the closing lines the burnish’d bayonets crash;
Now, Forrest, aid with such a blade as made Fort Pillow quail;
Now, Hill and Hardee, undismay’d, direct the iron hail.

Ho! Smith, Magruder, Taylor, Price and Walker in your spheres,
Warm with your zeal the hearts of ice, and charm the coward’s fears!
For by the tree of Liberty God planted on this shore,
This fight should be a victory or ye should breathe no more.

Now, Davis! on the mount of State, discern the Lord’s command,
While faith and courage on thee wait, and lift each cheering hand,
To beckon all, from farm and street, and make the laggard feel
A wish to meet the first that greets the carnival of steel!

Let Honor beat the rataplan and Duty quick obey—
Make “yea” an instant Tagerman, and “no” at once a Ney!
Upon the blood our best have spilled, pledge me with common breaths
War to the hilt with Yankee guilty, for “Liberty or Death!”