An Appeal to the South
An Appeal to the South.
Hark! o’er the Southern hills I hear,
The cannons and the rifles sound;
Let it be told in every ear,
There Freeman make their battle ground!
Five hundred thousand men are they,
That Lincoln raised for his foray—
The South to conquer and to slay:
’Tis Freedom calls—her call obey!
But what are thousands when the brave,
Defend their land and freedom dear:
When God, your country calls to save,
Who’ll be so base as death to fear?
Brave Southern youths I charge ye all,
I charge ye by your country’s fame—
For freedom make your hearts a wall,
To your children leave an honored name!
They talk of Union, and the flag,
Old, blessed guards of liberty:
And all that’s good from both they drag,
Debase them both by tyranny!
We loved the casket for the gem—
Oh, Liberty’s that precious thing:
The Union, who would love it, when
They far away its contents fling!
But we’ll preserve that sacred thing,
With deathless chaplets be it crowned;
What Yankees to the earth would fling,
With laurels in the South be bound.
Our Southern Union let us boast,
There Liberty be ever shown:
The revolution be our toast,
The principles of Washington!
Crush’d Freedom bids us to the strife,
Like that in which our fathers bled
For home, for liberty and life,
Where Southern chieftains foremost led!
Come, rush to the battle, on! on!
Press like the hosts of Washington—
And win the fight, as by him won,
*In “Dixie’s land” in eighty-one.
God bears the banner of the free,
His blessings on its folds be shed:
In Him our sacred trust shall be,
And in His name our banner spread.