The mighty have fallen, yet death can not chill, Those noble emotions the soul ever thrill; The grave hath no confines the spirit to hold, While back to its kindred it flies to unfold Truth! Truth! safeguard of the South and the free. Shall Washington rest, while a wail of discord Reminds him the North is forgetting the Lord? Will hero and statesman--the country's bright light-- Look down without pity from yonder far height, On this Land of Hope, for the brave and the free? That same noble spirit now watches above, With thousands of others, to guide and guard you with love; For here, true, earnest, and brave men are found, With hearts uncorrupted, to their native land bound. Awake! awake! O ye sons of the South, and be free! Down with the hireling that seeks now to rend The homes which your ancestors fought to defend; Rekindle the beacon ere the last spark is fled, And light up the camp-fires round Liberty's bed! Ye sons of the sunny South, strike to be free! Fear not the Northern despot, or his feeble frown, Who seeks, through his minions, the South to put down; Look to your God, from whence comes all power, And seek His aid and protection in each darkened hour. Strike again and again, O ye sons of the free! Carolina's sons to this platform have come-- Protection to Liberty, to fireside, and home-- Their watch-word to-day, as their Fathers' of old, Truth, Justice, and Freedom, before Northern gold. Ye are the sons of the Fathers who bled to be free! Then loud ring the anvil, the hammer, and bell; The South her new anthem, say what does it tell? Cotton, Grain, and Sugar, have proved threefold cord-- Columbia, the envied, the blest of the Lord! Sun of the sunny land, shine still o'er the free! On heaven's fair arches, see graven the names Of patriot and soldier, who drained life's pure veins; Then down with the Northern despot, let him hide his head, Who by heartless oppression would sever one thread Of this Southern Confederacy, the hope of the free! Once again at the altar, brothers, gather and kneel; Our pledge, the South--one family, in woe or in weal; One God and one Country--in peace or in war; The South, Free, United, and Truth the pole-star Of this sunny land, which for ye must be free! HEART-VICTORIES. BY A SOLDIER'S WIFE. There's not a stately hall, There's not a cottage fair, That proudly stands on Southern soil, Or softly nestles there, But in its peaceful walls, With wealth or comfort blest, A stormy battle fierce hath raged In gentle woman's breast. There Love, the true, the brave, The beautiful, the strong, Wrestles with Duty, gaunt and stern, Wrestles and struggles long; He falls--no more again His giant foe to meet; Bleeding at every opening vein, Love falls at Duty's feet.