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[From the Richmond Enquirer.A National Song.An appropriate national song for the Southern Confederacy appears to he one of the mooted questions of the present exciting crisis. Plenty of patriotic, poetry can be obtained, but a purely American inelodv, one that will take with the masses, isliardtohc found, 'ltic popular old ball ,lt;I of -The Minstrel’s Return,” composed by an American—and a Southerner, too—seems to be highly appropriate to the patriots of the South. Years ago it was quite as popular as the negro tune of Dixie” is at the present day, and the composer, who is a resident professor of music of Richmond, received many compliments for bis happy con-ception.A correspondent has sent us the following adaptation, and expresses a hope that, it may he taken up by the singers among our brave volunteers, and also by lady vocalists. Should the people adopt it, it will become our national anthem.Southern Song of Freedom.Air—“The Minstrel’s Return.”i.A nation has sprung into life,Beneath the bright, ciossof the South,And now a loud call to the strife*Kings out from the shrill bugle’s month. They gather from morass and mountain,They gather from prairie and inait,To drink at young Liberty** fountain The nectar that kindles the heart.Then, hail to the land of the pine !The home of the noble and free ;A palmetto wreath we'll entwine Kound the alter of young Liberty !iiOur flag with it? cluster cf stars,Firm fixed in a field of pure blue,All shinning through red and white bars,Now gallantly flutters in view.The stalwart and brave round it rally.They press to their lips every fold;While the hymn swells from hill and from valley—‘*Be God with our volunteers bold.”Then, hail to the land of the pine, c.in.The invaders rush down from the North,Our boiiiers are black with their hordes, Like wolves for their victims thy froth.White whetting their knives and their swords Their watchword is Booty and Beauty,” Their aim is to steel as they go.But, Southrons ! act up to your duty,And lay the foul miscreant low.Then, hail to the land of the pine, c.sv.The God of our fathers look down.And blesses the cause of the just;His smiles will the patriot crown,Who tramples IT* chains in the dust.Mai ch. maich, 5011111101..-—shoulder to shoulder,One heart-throb—one shout for the cause; Remember—the world's a beholder.Ana your bayonets are fix’d at your doors! Then, hail to the land of the pine, C-
Newspaper Details
Des Arc Semi Weekly Citizen
Des Arc, Arkansas, US
Fri, Jun 14, 1861
Page 2
Full Page
Clipped by
Anonymous
USA 17 Feb 2021
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