 | War poets of the South and Confederate camp-fire songs. |  |
ZOLLICOFFER.
First in the fight, and first in the arms
Of the white-winged angels of glory,
With the heart of the South at the feet of God,
And his wounds to tell the story.
Of the white-winged angels of glory,
With the heart of the South at the feet of God,
And his wounds to tell the story.
And the blood that flowed from his hero-heart
On the spot where he nobly perished,
Was drunk by the earth as a sacrament
In the holy cause he cherished.
On the spot where he nobly perished,
Was drunk by the earth as a sacrament
In the holy cause he cherished.
In Heaven a home with the brave and blessed,
And, for his soul's sustaining,
The apocalyptic eyes of Christ—
And nothing on earth remaining,
And, for his soul's sustaining,
The apocalyptic eyes of Christ—
And nothing on earth remaining,
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But a handful of dust in the land of his choice,
A name in song and story,
And Fame to shout with her brazen voice:
"Died on the field of glory!"
A name in song and story,
And Fame to shout with her brazen voice:
"Died on the field of glory!"
| War poets of the South and Confederate camp-fire songs. | |