O sacred love of country! For the South, Come, brave avengers, rush to every field. Let cries of "Liberty" from every mouth Sound the alarm, till the base traitors yield. Under our glorious flag, let Victory Respond to Freedom's call. Wipe off the stain Of the invaders' feet. Dying, they will see Thy triumph, and the land redeemed again. To arms! sons of the South! Come like a mountain-flood; March on! let every vale o'erflow with the invaders' blood. _Nashville Gazette._ MONODY ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL STONEWALL JACKSON. BY THE EXILE. Aye, toll! toll! toll! Toll the funeral bell! And let its mournful echoes roll From sphere to sphere, from pole to pole, O'er the flight of the greatest, kingliest soul That ever in battle fell. Yes, weep! weep! weep! Weep for the hero fled! For death, the greatest of soldiers, at last Has over our leader his black pall cast, And from us his noble form hath passed To the home of the mighty dead. Then toll! and weep! and mourn! Mourn the fall of the brave! For Jackson, whose deeds made the nation proud, At whose very name the enemy cowed, With the "crimson cross" for his martial shroud, Now sleeps his long sleep in the grave. His form has passed away; His voice is silent and still; No more at the head of "the old brigade," The daring men who were never dismayed, Will he lead them to glory that never can fade-- Stonewall of the Iron Will! He fell as a hero should fall; 'Mid the thunder of war he died. While the rifle cracked and the cannon roared, And the blood of the friend and foeman poured, He dropped from his nerveless grasp the sword That erst was the nation's pride. Virginia, his mother, is bowed; Her tread is heavy and slow. From all the South comes a wailing moan, And mountains and valleys re-echo the groan, For the gallant chief of her clans has flown, And a nation is filled with woe. Rest, warrior! rest! Rest in thy laureled tomb! Thy mem'ry shall live through all of earth's years, And thy name still excite the despot's fears, While o'er thee shall fall a nation's tears; Thy deeds shall not perish in gloom. THE CONFEDERATE FLAG. BY MRS. C. D. ELDER. Bright banner of freedom, with pride I unfold thee; Fair flag of my country, with love I behold thee, Gleaming above us, in freshness and youth, Emblem of liberty--symbol of truth; For this flag of my country in triumph shall wave O'er the Southerner's home and the Southerner's grave. All bright are the stars that are beaming upon us, And bold are the bars that are gleaming above us; The one shall increase in their number and light, The other grow bolder in power and might; For this flag of my country in triumph shall wave O'er the Southerner's home or the Southerner's grave.