But still in sleep the farm-boy goes Singing, calling, "Co', boss! co', boss! co'! co'! co'!" Popular Songs and Ballads of the Civil War. The following lyrics, for various and specific reasons, have been selected for arrangement under one head. Other notable poems of the Civil War will be found elsewhere in this work,-from the pens of Boker, Brownell, Duganne, Finch, Halpine, Hayne, Mrs. Howe, Longfellow, Lowell, Palmer, Randall, Ryan, Stoddard, Thompson, Ticknor, Whitman, Whittier, F. Willson, Winter, Work, and other writers of the period. [Lyrics of Loyalty; Songs of the Soldiers; Personal and Political Ballads. Edited by Frank Moore. 1864.-Foetry of the Civil War. Edited by Richard Grant White. 1866. The Southern Poems of the War. Collected by Emily V. Mason. 1867.-The Southern Amaranth. Edited by Sallie A. Brock. 1869.-Songs and Ballads of the Southern People. 1861-65. Edited by Frank Moore. 1886.-Bugle Echoes. Edited by Francis F. Browne. 1886.-The Songs of the War. By Brander Matthews, in The Century Magazine. 1887.-Our War Songs, North and South. Compiled and Edited by C. S. Brainard. 1887.] JOHN NORTHERN. I. UNION ARMY CHORUS. OHN BROWN's body lies a-mouldering in the grave; John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave; His soul is marching on! Glory, halle-hallelujah! Glory, halle-hallelujah! His soul is marching on! He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord! (thrice) John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back! (thrice) His pet lambs will meet him on the way; (thrice) They will hang Jeff Davis to a sour-apple tree! (thrice) Now, three rousing cheers for the Union! (thrice) As we are marching on! Glory, halle-hallelujah! Glory, halle-hallelujah! Hip, hip, hip, hip, Hurrah! THE RANK AND FILE. 1861. WE THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND MORE. E are coming, Father Abra'am, three hundred thousand more, We are coming, Father Abra'am, three hundred thousand more! If you look across the hill-tops that meet the northern sky, If you look all up our valleys where the growing harvests shine, You have called us, and we're coming, by Richmond's bloody tide Six hundred thousand loyal men and true have gone before: JAMES SLOAN GIBBONS. 1810 ALL QUIET ALONG THE POTOMAC. "ALL LL quiet along the Potomac," they say, All quiet along the Potomac to-night, Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming; Through the forest leaves softly is creeping; There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread, As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep, The moon seems to shine just as brightly as then, Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, He passes the fountain, the blasted pine-tree, Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light, Hark! was it the night-wind that rustled the leaves ? It looked like a rifle . . . "Ha! Mary, good-bye!" All quiet along the Potomac to-night; No sound save the rush of the river; While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead- ETHEL LYNN BEERS. 1827-79. THE FANCY SHOT. "RIFLEMAN, shoot me a fancy shot Straight at the heart of yon prowling vidette; Ring me a ball in the glittering spot That shines on his breast like an amulet!" 66 Ah, Captain! here goes for a fine-drawn bead; There's music around when my barrel's in tune!" And dead from his horse fell the ringing dragoon. "Now, Rifleman, steal through the bushes and snatch From your victim some trinket to hansel first bloodA button, a loop, or that luminous patch That gleams in the moon like a diamond stud." "Oh, Captain! I staggered, and sunk on my track, "Ha! Rifleman, fling me the locket-'tis she, 66 My brother's young bride, and the fallen dragoon But, hark! the far bugles their warnings unite; There's lurking and loping around us to-night; CHARLES DAWSON SHANLY. 1811-75. YES, THE BATTLE CRY OF FREEDOM. "ES, we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom; We will rally from the hill-side, we'll gather from the plain, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom. The Union forever, Hurrah! boys, Hurrah! Down with the traitor, up with the star; While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again, We are springing to the call of our Brothers gone before, Shouting the battle cry of Freedom, And we'll fill the vacant ranks with a million freemen more, We will welcome to our numbers the loyal true and brave, And although they may be poor, not a man shall be a slave, |