Oh! Johnny, dear, and did you hear the news that's lately spread, That never more the Southern cross must rear its stately head; The "white and red's" forbid by law, so Northmen proudly say, Nor you nor I can e'er again be "Wearin' of the Gray!" And when we meet with strangers kind, who take us by the hand, Inquiring warmly of the South, our own beloved land, We're bound to tell the woeful truth, let cost whate'er it may, That some are threatened e'en with death, for "Wearin' of the Gray!" Then since the color we must wear is of the hateful blue, The children of the sunny South must be to mem'ry true; Ah! take the cockade from their hats and tread it 'neath the feet, And still tho' bruis'd and mangled sad, 'twill speak a language sweet; And buried in our heart of hearts the precious words lie hid, Where oft they call the bitter tears to wet the drooping lid; But let them flow, they do us good thro' all the mournful day, While constant we do call to mind the "Wearin' of the Gray!" And if at last our father's law be torn from Southland's heart, Her sons will take their household gods and far away depart; Rememb'ring still the whisper'd word, to weary wand'rers giv'n, That justice pure, and perfect rest, are found alone in heav'n. Then on some green and distant isle beneath the setting sun, We'll patient wait the coming time when life and earth are done, Nor even in the dying hour, while passing calm away, Can we forget or e'er regret the "Wearin' of the Gray!" [Illustration: South Carolina Button.] THE FADED GRAY JACKET. By MRS. C. A. BALL. Music by CHARLIE WARD. Permission of the W. S. SHAW CO., Philadelphia. Fold it up carefully, lay it aside, Tenderly touch it, look on it with pride; For dear must it be to our hearts evermore, The jacket of gray our loved soldier boy wore. Can we ever forget when he joined the brave band, Who rose in defense of our dear Southern land; And in his bright youth hurried on to the fray, How proudly he donned it, the jacket of gray? CHORUS.--Fold it up carefully, lay it aside, Tenderly touch it, look on it with pride; For dear it must be to our hearts evermore, The jacket of gray our loved soldier boy wore. His fond mother blessed him and looked up above, Commending to Heaven the child of her love; What anguish was hers, mortal tongue may not say, When he passed from her sight in the jacket of gray. But her country had called him, she would not repine, Though costly the sacrifice placed on its shrine; Her heart's dearest hopes on its altar she lay, When she sent out her boy, in his jacket of gray! CHORUS.