There's a Sound Among the Forest Trees

A. W. AUNER, Song Publisher, N. E. Cor. 11th, & Market, Philada.

There’s A Sound Among The Forest Trees.

There’s a sound among the forest trees, away, boys,
Away to the battle field hurrah!
Hear its thunders from the mountain, no delay, boys,
We’ll gird on the sword and shield.
Shall we falter on the threshold of our fame, boys?
The light of the morn appears, hurrah!
Quick to duty, “up and at them,” once again, boys,
Hurrah for our Volunteers.
They are coming from the North, they are coming from the West.
Where the mighty river flows,
From New England’s hallowed soil, where our Pilgrim Fathers rest,
And the Star of Freedom rolls.

With the standard of our Union waving o’er us,
We’ll shout as we march along, hurrah!
Like the vet’rans of the past who fought before us,
Our hearts shall be true and strong.
To the struggle, noble Heroes! let us never
Be false to our sword or shield, hurrah!
To the Union let us boldly stand forever,
And conquer, but never yield.
Let the traitor foe advance, and the cannon loudly roar,
With a peal as wild and shrill, hurrah!
In the cause of Truth and Right we will brave him as before,
For our souls are dauntless still.

There’s an angel form above us gently twining
A wreath for the conqueror’s brow—
Through the cloud of war a beacon light is shining—
Away to the conflict now!
For the spirit of departed years returning,
Cries on to the battle field, hurrah,
And the patriot fire in every heart is burning:
We’ll conquer, but never yield.
Then our banner to the breeze, we shall triumph, never fear,
And our bark ride proudly still, hurrah!
Like the noble sires who bled for the gem we hold so dear,
On the field of Bunker Hill.

A. W. AUNER’S Printing Office, Eleventh & Market, Philada. Pa.

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