Fear no danger!  Shun no labor! 
  Lift up rifle, pike, and sabre! 
  Shoulder pressing close to shoulder,
  Let the odds make each heart bolder!

  How the South’s great heart rejoices
  At your cannons’ ringing voices! 
  For faith betrayed, and pledges broken,
  Wrongs inflicted, insults spoken.

  Strong as lions, swift as eagles,
  Back to their kennels hunt these beagles! 
  Cut the unequal bonds asunder! 
  Let them hence each other plunder!

  Swear upon your country’s altar
  Never to submit or falter,
  Till the spoilers are defeated,
  Till the Lord’s work is completed.

  Halt not till our Federation
  Secures among earth’s powers its station! 
  Then at peace, and crowned with glory,
  Hear your children tell the story!

If the loved ones weep in sadness,
Victory soon shall bring them gladness,—­
To arms! 
Exultant pride soon banish sorrow,
Smiles chase tears away to-morrow. 
To arms!  To arms!  To arms, in Dixie! 
Advance the flag of Dixie! 
Hurrah! hurrah! 
For Dixie’s land we take our stand,
And live or die for Dixie! 
To arms!  To arms! 
And conquer peace for Dixie! 
To arms!  To arms! 
And conquer peace for Dixie!

ALBERT PIKE.

* * * * *

THE FLAG GOES BY.

  Hats off! 
  Along the street there comes
  A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums,
  A dash of color beneath the sky: 
  Hats off! 
  The flag is passing by!

  Blue and crimson and white it shines,
  Over the steel-tipped, ordered lines. 
  Hats off! 
  The colors before us fly;
  But more than the flag is passing by.

  Sea-fights and land-fights, grim and great,
  Fought to make and to save the State: 
  Weary marches and sinking ships;
  Cheers of victory on dying lips;

  Days of plenty and years of peace;
  March of a strong land’s swift increase;
  Equal justice, right and law,
  Stately honor and reverend awe;

  Sign of a nation, great and strong
  To ward her people from foreign wrong: 
  Pride and glory and honor,—­all
  Live in the colors to stand or fall.

  Hats off! 
  Along the street there comes
  A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums;
  And loyal hearts are beating high: 
  Hats off! 
  The flag is passing by!

HENRY HOLCOMB BENNETT.

* * * * *

THE BRAVE AT HOME.

  The maid who binds her warrior’s sash
    With smile that well her pain dissembles,
  The while beneath her drooping lash
    One starry tear-drop hangs and trembles,
  Though Heaven alone records the tear,
    And Fame shall never know her story,
  Her heart has shed a drop as dear
    As e’er bedewed the field of glory!