Tennessee! Fire away!

Tennesse!

Black Republican bandits
Have crossed to our shore,
Our soil has been dyed
With Tennesse’s gore;
The murderer’s triumph
Was theirs for a day:—
Our triumph is coming—
So fire—fire away!

Be steady—be ready—
And firm every hand—
Pour your shot like a storm
On the vile Yankee band.
On their flanks, on their centre,
Our batteries play—
And we sweep them like chaff,
As we fire—fire away!

Lo! the smoke-wreaths uprising!
The belching flames tear
Wide gaps through the curtain,
Revealing despair.
Torn flutters their banner—
They run in dismay;
They are wavering—sinking—
So fire—fire away!

They sneer at the rags
Of Tennessee braves,
They would hunt us like dogs,
And treat us as slaves.
But oh Lincoln tools!
Their sneering don’t pay,
For the bare-footed patriots
Will fire—fire away!

‘Tis over—the thunders
Have died on the gale—
Of the wounded and vanquished
Hark! hark to the wail!
Long the Lincoln invader
Shall mourn for the day
When Tennesseians was summoned
To fire—fire away!

Item Information help

  • Item ID
    bsvg501687
  • Genre
    broadsides
  • Illustrated
  • DCMI Type
    Still Image
  • Extent
    21.5 cm x 12 cm
  • Title
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