From June 1, 1862, to January 1, 1863.

By S. R. Ezzell, of Capt. Daly’s Company.

Air—“Auld Lang Syne.”

The Yankees hate the Lone Star State, because she did secede;
At Galveston they’ve now begun to make her soldiers bleed.
The “Old Blockade” her threats have made, that she will burn our town;
But Col. Cook, with piercing look, declares he’ll stand his ground.

High in the breeze he soon did raise the flag with single star,
Saying, “Let them come, we’ll give them some, before they are aware.”
Along the coast he soon did post his batteries, well mann’d
By men of might, prepared to fight, behind breast-works of sand.

Like lions brave, their land to save, the cavalry do stand
Ready to charge the Yankee barge that first attempts to land;
Infantry, too, like soldiers true, who never yet did fail,
They long to greet the Yankee fleet with musketry like hail.

We wait to see the “Old Santee” come sailing into shore;
And then we’ll fight for Southern rights, and make the cannon roar;
But if a fleet we have to meet, of gunboats large and strong,
We’ll cross the bridge without a siege, and think it nothing wrong.

When on mainland, we’ll take our stand, and all their hosts defy;
There we will fight for Southern rights—we’ll fight them till we die.
Two months passed by, they came not nigh, but only cruis’d around,
As if to find the channel’s wind, for which they oft did sound;
But this was all, the Eagle bald, did not attempt to land;
His courage fail’d, away he sailed, and made no more demand.

But Harriet Lane, she did remain, with quite a heavy fleet,
She came up nigher and open’d fire in order quite complete;
’Twas at Fort Point she did dismount our best and largest gun;
’Twas now in vain here to remain, so we for life did run.

’Mid bomb and grape we did escape, and not a life was lost;
Fearing the town they would burn down over the bridge we crossed;
Then on mainland we took our stand, determined not to yield,
Tho’ bomb and ball should thickly fall, and we die on the field.

Gen. Herbert he came not near, but strangely stood aloof;
From San Antone he did look on, where was good old “4th proof.”
Magruder came, a man of fame, the Texas boys to lead;
From Rio Grande he did command, to come with rapid speed;
“My plan is laid,” he quickly said, “Galveston to retake;
Brave boys!” said he, “come, follow me; we’ll make the Yankees quake.”

Three bayou crafts, of shallow draught, with cotton breastworks neat;
Three hundred men, and three small guns, composed our Texas fleet;
Now ready quite, the Feds to fight, our land force did repair,
Along Strand Street, the Yanks to greet, just as our boats came near.

The Lone Star State must seal her fate, in ruin, shame and woe,
Or bravely fight for Southern rights, and triumph o’er the foe;
On New Year’s morn, before day dawn, the year of sixty-three,
The New Year’s gifts came flying swift, both from the land and sea.

The lightning glare, both far and near, the darkness did dispel;
Grape, bomb and ball did thickly fall, our forces to repel;
Magruder then said to his men, “Your country you must save,
And still maintain your glorious name, the bravest of the brave.”

We fear’d them not, but bravely fought, our homesteads to maintain;
By break of day we had the Bay at our command again;
The Yankee fleet we did defeat, and captur’d all their crews,
Except a few who were untrue, and sail’d off under truce.