By Alex. A. Cummins.

Fearlessly the seas we roam,
Tossed by each briny wave;
Its boundless surface is our home,
Its bosom deep our graves.
No foreign mandate fills with awe
Our gallant hearted band;
We know no home, we know no law,
But that of Dixie’s land.

The bright star is our compass true,
Our chart the ocean wide;
Our only hope the noble few
That’s standing side by side;
We do not fear the stormy gale
That sweeps old ocean’s strand;
We scorn our enemy’s clumsy sail,
And all for Dixie’s land.

We love to hoist to the topmost peak,
Our Southern Stars and Stripes;
And woe to him who dares to seek
To trample on their rights!
It is the ægis of the free,
And by it we will stand,
And watch it waving o’er the sea,
And over Dixie’s land.

We love to roam the deep, deep sea,
And hear the cannon’s boom,
And give the war-cry, wild and free,
Amid the battle’s gloom,
We do not fight alone for gain,
So far from native strand;
But our country’s freedom and its fame,
And the fair of Dixie’s land.