 | War poets of the South and Confederate camp-fire songs. |  |
143
VIRGINIA.
Glorious Virginia! Freedom sprang
Light to her feet at thy trumpet's clang:
At the first sounds of that clarion blast,
Foes like the chaff from the whirlwind passed—
Passed to their doom—from that hour no more
Triumphs their cause by sea or shore.
Light to her feet at thy trumpet's clang:
At the first sounds of that clarion blast,
Foes like the chaff from the whirlwind passed—
Passed to their doom—from that hour no more
Triumphs their cause by sea or shore.
Glorious Virginia! noble the blood
That hath bathed thy fields in a crimson flood;
On many a wide-spread and sunny plain,
Like leaves of autumn thy dead have lain;
The Southern heart is their funeral urn!
The Southern slogan their requiem stern!
That hath bathed thy fields in a crimson flood;
On many a wide-spread and sunny plain,
Like leaves of autumn thy dead have lain;
The Southern heart is their funeral urn!
The Southern slogan their requiem stern!
Glorious Virginia! to thee, to thee
We lean, as the shoots to the parent tree;
Bending in awe at thy glance of might;
First in the council, first in the fight!
While our flag is fanned by the breath of fame,
Glorious Virginia! we'll bless thy name.
We lean, as the shoots to the parent tree;
Bending in awe at thy glance of might;
First in the council, first in the fight!
While our flag is fanned by the breath of fame,
Glorious Virginia! we'll bless thy name.
| War poets of the South and Confederate camp-fire songs. | |