 | War poets of the South and Confederate camp-fire songs. |  |
THE HOME-SPUN DRESS.
Oh, yes! I am a Southern girl,
And glory in the name,
And boast it with far greater pride
Than glittering wealth or fame;
We envy not the Northern girl,
Her robes of beauty rare,
Though diamonds grace her snowy neck,
And pearls bedeck her hair.
And glory in the name,
And boast it with far greater pride
Than glittering wealth or fame;
We envy not the Northern girl,
Her robes of beauty rare,
Though diamonds grace her snowy neck,
And pearls bedeck her hair.
Chorus—(Air: "Bonnie Blue Flag")
Hurrah! Hurrah!
For the Sunny South so dear,
Three cheers for the home-spun dress,
The Southern ladies wear!
Hurrah! Hurrah!
For the Sunny South so dear,
Three cheers for the home-spun dress,
The Southern ladies wear!
The home-spun dress is plain, I know,
My hat's palmetto, too;
But then it shows what Southern girls
For Southern rights will do;
We send the bravest of our land
To battle with the foe,
And we will lend a helping hand—
We love the South, you know.
Chorus. Hurrah! Hurrah! etc.
My hat's palmetto, too;
But then it shows what Southern girls
For Southern rights will do;
We send the bravest of our land
To battle with the foe,
And we will lend a helping hand—
We love the South, you know.
Chorus. Hurrah! Hurrah! etc.
120
Now Northern goods are out of date;
And since old Abe's blockade,
We Southern girls can be content
With goods that are Southern made;
We send our sweethearts to the war,
But, dear girls, never mind!
Your soldier-love will ne'er forget
The girl he left behind.
Chorus. Hurrah! Hurrah! etc.
And since old Abe's blockade,
We Southern girls can be content
With goods that are Southern made;
We send our sweethearts to the war,
But, dear girls, never mind!
Your soldier-love will ne'er forget
The girl he left behind.
Chorus. Hurrah! Hurrah! etc.
The soldier is the lad for me—
A brave heart I adore;
And when the Sunny South is free,
And when fighting is no more,
I'll choose me then a lover brave,
From out that gallant band,
The soldier-lad I love the best,
Shall have my heart and hand.
Chorus. Hurrah! Hurrah! etc.
A brave heart I adore;
And when the Sunny South is free,
And when fighting is no more,
I'll choose me then a lover brave,
From out that gallant band,
The soldier-lad I love the best,
Shall have my heart and hand.
Chorus. Hurrah! Hurrah! etc.
The Southern land's a glorious land,
And has a glorious cause;
Then cheer, three cheers for Southern rights,
And for our Southern beaux!
And has a glorious cause;
Then cheer, three cheers for Southern rights,
And for our Southern beaux!
121
We scorn to wear a bit of silk,
A bit of Northern lace,
But make our home-spun dresses up,
And wear them, too, with grace.
Chorus. Hurrah! Hurrah! etc.
A bit of Northern lace,
But make our home-spun dresses up,
And wear them, too, with grace.
Chorus. Hurrah! Hurrah! etc.
And now, young man, a word to you:
If you would win the fair,
Go to the field where honor calls,
And win your lady there;
Remember that our brightest smiles
Are for the true and brave,
And that our tears are all for those
Who fill a soldier's grave.
Chorus. Hurrah! Hurrah! etc.
If you would win the fair,
Go to the field where honor calls,
And win your lady there;
Remember that our brightest smiles
Are for the true and brave,
And that our tears are all for those
Who fill a soldier's grave.
Chorus. Hurrah! Hurrah! etc.
| War poets of the South and Confederate camp-fire songs. | |