First, gallant South Carolina nobly made the stand; Then came Alabama, who took her by the hand; Next, quickly, Mississippi, Georgia, and Florida-- All raised the flag, the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star. Ye men of valor, gather round the banner of the right; Texas and fair Louisiana join us in the fight. Davis, our loved President, and Stephens, statesmen are; Now rally round the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star. And here's to brave Virginia! the Old Dominion State With the young Confederacy at length has linked her fate. Impelled by her example, now other States prepare To hoist on high the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star. Then here's to our Confederacy; strong we are and brave, Like patriots of old we'll fight, our heritage to save; And rather than submit to shame, to die we would prefer; So cheer for the bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star. Then cheer, boys, cheer, raise the joyous shout, For Arkansas and North Carolina now have both gone out; And let another rousing cheer for Tennessee be given, The single star of the bonnie Blue Flag has grown to be eleven! THE BATTLE AT BULL RUN. BY RUTH. Forward, my brave columns, forward! No other word was spoken; But in the quick and mighty rustling of their feet, And in the flashing of their eyes, 'twas proved _This was enough_. Men, whose _every_ bosom had a _noble_ heart, And who had left their homes, their sacred _rights_ To gain: To _these_ this was no trying hour, No time to waver, and to doubt. But one, For which they'd hoped and prayed-- One (as they felt) they'd brought not on Themselves, but which they knew _must come_-- And _nobly_, _O most nobly_, did their Bravery, their _sense_ of _right_, sustain them. And Lincoln's hordes-- _They_ knew _not_ with what natures they contended, Seemed not to feel their _motives_ differed, as Does heaven from earth. _They_, the poor, miserable, _hired_ outcasts, whose Principles were bought, And men, whose courage, bravery, and noble aims, Had come to be, throughout the land, A proverb. And _what_ the end? What _could_, what _should it be_, than what it _was_? A _brilliant, glorious_ VICTORY. The South weeps o'er her slain: And well she may; for they were jewels From her diadem. She weeps; sheds tears of grief, of sorrow, And of PRIDE. LOUISVILLE, KY., _July 24, 1861_. THE SOUTHRON MOTHER'S CHARGE. BY THOMAS B. HOOD. You go, my son, to the battle-field, To repel the invading foe; Mid its fiercest conflicts _never_ yield Till death shall lay you low. Our God, who smiles upon the Right And frowns upon the Wrong, Will nerve you for our holy fight, And make your courage strong. Our cause is just, for it we pray At morning, noon, and night, Upon our banners we inscribe, God, Liberty, and Right.