At the end of each street, a banner we meet,
The people all march in a mass,
But quickly aside, they step back with pride,
To let the brave companies pass.
The streets are dense filled, but the laughter is still'd--
The crowd is all going one way;
Their cheeks are blanched white, but they smile as they light
Lift their hats to the--Ordered away.
They smile while the dart deeply pierces their heart,
But each eye flashes back the war-glance,
As they watch the brave file march up with a smile,
'Neath their flag--with their muskets and lance;
The cannon's loud roar vibrates on the shore,
_But the people are quiet to-day_,
As, startled, they see how fearless and free
March the companies--Ordered away.
Not a quiver or gleam of fear can be seen,
Though they go to meet death in disguise;
For the hot air is filled with poison distilled
'Neath the rays of fair Florida's skies.
Hark! the drum and fife awake to new life
The soldiers who--"Can't get away;"
Who _wish_, as they wave their hats to the brave,
That _they_ were the--Ordered away.
As _our_ parting grows near, let us quell back the tear,
Let our smiles shine as bright as of yore;
Let us stand with the mass, salute as they pass,
And weep when we see them no more.
Let no tear-drop or sigh dim the light of our eye,
Or move from our lips, as they say--
While waving our hand to a brave little band--
Good-by to the--Ordered away.
Let them go, in God's name, in defense of their _fame_,
Brave death at the cannon's wide mouth;
Let them honor and save the land of the brave,
Plant Freedom's bright flag in the _South_.
Let them go! While we weep, and lone vigils keep,
We will bless them, and fervently pray
To the God whom we trust, for our cause firm but just,
And our loved ones--the Ordered away.
When fierce battles storm, we will rise up each morn,
Teach our young sons the saber to wield:
Should their brave fathers die, we will arm _them_ to fly
And fill up the gap in the field.
Then, fathers and brothers, fond husbands and lovers,
March! march bravely on! _We_ will stay,
Alone in our sorrow, to pray on each morrow
For our loved ones--the Ordered away.
AUGUSTA, GA., _April 2, 1861_.