The Race in Dixie.


The Race in Dixie.

Come all good people great and small,
Let’s sing a race that did befall
The Yan—the Yan—the Yankee men in Dixie.
Old traitor to Richmond he would ride.
And have—and have—and have a race in Dixie,
Let’s march away to Dixie,
Away! Away!
The rebel band shall leave the land,
That gathered down in Dixie,
Away! Away!
Let’s see the race in Dixie.

From Washington, oh, glorious fun!
The Yankee girls and men did run
To see—to see—to see the race in Dixie,
And some they went with banners fine,
And some they carried cakes and wine,
To eat—to eat—to eat and drink in Dixie.
Let’s march, they cried, to Dixie,
Away! Away!
Oh, sadly they did rue the day
They went with arms and flags so gay,
Away! Away!
To run Away from Dixie.

Old Lincoln sent young Bod his son,
And all his Congres to Bull Run,
To see—to see—to see the race in Dixie.
Miss. Wilson and her pap were there,
And sweet Miss. Weed marched in the rear,
To plant—to plant—to plant the stripes in Dixie.
Away! Away! for Dixie!
Away! Away!
Let’s see the sight; they’ll never fight,
The rebels they will take to flight,
Away! Away!
We’ll run them out of Dixie!

They planted cannon on the hill
In hope much rebel blood to spill,
Away Away away down there in Dixie.
But Beauregard and Johnson, true,
And Bartow, Bee and others, too.
Were there—were there—were there to fight for
“Let’s fight,” they cried, “for Dixie.”
Away! Away!
A tyrant band invades our land,
On Dixie let us take our stand,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We’ll live and DIE in Dixie.

Before the setting of the sun.
That noble battle it was won
By Son—by Son—by Southern boys at Dixie.
Oh, thousands who, at morning light,
Had marched so proudly to the fight,
Were’ly—were’ly—were lying dead on Dixie.
Oh far away in Dixie.
Away! Away!
And ran away from Dixie.

And South Carolina, she was there,
With Georgia boys the fame to share,
Of stan—of stan—of standing fast by Dixie;
And Alabama, poured a tide
Of free—of free—of freemen’s blood for Dixie.
Hurrah! Hurrah! for Dixie,
Away! Away!
For sons who died that glorious day!
Old fathers with their locks so grey,
Away! Away!
Are come to fight for Dixie.

Let millions of the Hessians come,
At bugle sound and roll of drum,
We’ll ral—we’ll ral—we’ll rally all for Dixie.
For wives and children, homes and friends,
He nobly dies who these defends,
Away! Away! far off in Dixie.
Hurrah! Hurrah! for Dixie,
Away! Away!
The boards that boast on Dixie soil
To glut their lust and reap the spoil,
For aye! for aye!
Shall die and rot on Dixie.

Now, let us sing the glorious song,
Of those who go t’avenge the wrong
Of Yan—of Yan—of Yankees down in Dixie.
Let’s sing to all on Dixies side,
And shed a tear for those who died
In the—in the—in the great night for Dixie.
Hurrah! Hurrah! for Dixie.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We’ll drive old Lincoln’s hireling band,
From Southern seas and Southern strand,
Away! Away!

Item Information help

  • Item ID
  • DCMI Type
    Still Image
  • Title
  • Creator
    Porter, R. P.
  • Illustrated
  • Extent
    26 cm x 18 cm
  • Genre
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