Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp!
Go the Southern braves to battle,
How they shine, each gleaming line!
Flashing sabers! how they rattle!
Every lip is now compressed,
Every heart now yearns for glory,
Every eye with patriot fire
Burns for battle fierce and gory!
Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp!
Death is in each hidden saber,
Reaper of the fields of Time,
Look ye for a giant's labor!
How sublime! when patriots feel
All the strength of self-reliance,
Marching on to meet the foe,
With a stern and grim defiance!
See how proudly floats our flag!
White! our cause is pure and grand, man!
Red! a living flood shall flow
From every foe now in the land, man!
Blue! aye, heaven's stars are there!
Sparkling in their azure beauty!
Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp!
Go the messengers of duty!