Hoist up the Flag, Long May it Wave
Johnson, Song Publisher, 7 North Tenth St., Philadelphia.
Hoist up the Flag, Long May it Wave.
The Rebels thought they had us when the war first begun,
When we bad a misfortune at the battle of Bull’s Run,
But they soon found out they had no earthly sight,
For we beat them two to one in a fair field fight.
Our troops on the march, they were mighty lucky,
They licked the enemy two to one in old Kentucky;
Our troops on the march were of the right stamp,
They beat the enemy off the ground and took all their camp.
Our troops at Richmond ware under good training,
They were under the command of General McClellan,
The troops at Richmond were anxious for a fight,
But the Rebels, they were cowardly and kept oat of sight.
The Little Iron Monitor went to Norfolk well packed,
She fought seven hours alongside the Merrimac,
When she opened fire she made the Merrimac sound.
She crippled her with a ball weighing 480 pounds.
Governor Wise marched his troops out for Co have a fight,
Our boys, they met him and banged him left and right;
The Governor’s first battle he met with a defeat,
He’d better think of John Brown and take a back seat.
It was at Roanoke Island where we had this fight,
When the battle went on Gov. Wise was out of sight,
He got on his horse and he rode off to town,
Thinking of the ghost of old John Brown.
At Pittsburg Landing our troops fought hard,
They killed Gen. Johnson and defeated Beauregard,
The way they slew the Rebels they know how it would be,
With our land forces and gun-boats, a Union victory.
Our soldiers, they have left their homes and wives.
And for their country’s cause have sacrificed their lives,
But when the flag is hoisted, and they see it waving free,
They think of the Union and sweet Liberty.
England is trying mighty hard to kick up a fuss,
They bad better stay at home and not trouble us;
If they come here to fight they’ll find it is not fun,
We’ll give a little what they got from General Washington.
To war with us takes South and Johnny Bull,
They’d better stay at home, they have got their hands full,
If they come here to fight they won’t have a chance,
Unless they get help from the Emperor of France.
Give the punishment of all Southerners to me,
I’ll hang every traitor up to a high tree;
To secure Jeff. Davis I’ll let yon all see,
I’d have rope enough to hang two or three.
J.H. Johnson, Stationer, 7 North Tenth St., Philadelphia.