Still, gallant and brave, he smiles at the grave,
And hastes to his comrades, to lead them;
In the field of red Mars, ’neath the Banner of Stars,
His war-cry is “Union and Freedom!”
In all the land, from South to North,
From East to West, he glories;
But fights to drive the traitors forth,
And rid its soil of tories!
No crafty words his faith can shake--
No force can make him falter;
He draws his sword for Union’s sake,
And strikes for Freedom’s altar!
For, gallant and brave, he smiles at the grave,
And flies to his comrades, to lead them;
In the field of red Mars, ’neath the Banner of Stars,
His war-cry is “Union and Freedom!”
69
Give us Room.
AIR--_Buy a Broom_.
From Northland we come with our sharp-shooting rifles,
To chase Southern traitors from Liberty’s soil;
All heedless of Bull-Runs or such passing trifles,
We’re bound to march onward, through danger or toil.