Oh, he's nothing but a soldier, his trust is in his sword, To carve his way to glory through the servile Yankee horde; No pompous pageant heralds him, no sycophants attend; In his belt you see his body guard, his tried and trusty friend. Oh, he's nothing but a soldier, yet his eyes are very fine, And I sometimes think, when passing, they're peeping into mine; Though he's nothing but a soldier--come, let me be discreet-- Yet really for a soldier, his toilet's very neat. He has been again to see us, the gentleman in gray, He's called to see us often, our house is on his way; Ofttimes he sadly seeks the shade of yonder grove of trees, I watched him once--this soldier--I saw him on his knees. Oh, he's nothing but a soldier, but this I know full well. He has a heart of softness, where tender virtues dwell; For once when we were talking, and no one else was near, I saw him very plainly try to hide a starting tear. Ah! he's nothing but a soldier; but then its very queer. Whenever he is absent I'd much rather have him near; He's gone to meet the foeman, to stay his bloody track, O Heaven! shield the soldier; O God! let him come back. SOUTHERN WAR-CRY. _Air--"Scots, wha hae."_ Countrymen of Washington! Countrymen of Jefferson! By old Hick'ry oft led on To death or victory! Sons of men who fought and bled, Whose blood for you was freely shed, Where Marion charged and Sumpter led, For freeman's rights! From the Cowpens' glorious way, Southron valor led the fray To Yorktown's eventful day, First we were free! At New Orleans we met the foe; Oppressors fell at every blow; There we laid the usurper low, For maids and wives! Who on Palo Alto's day, 'Mid fire and hail at Monterey, At Buena Vista, led the way? "Rough-and-Ready." Southrons all; at Freedom's call, For our homes united all, Freemen live, or freemen fall! Death or liberty! DIXIE'S LAND. _As sung by the Confederate Soldier._ Away down South in de fields of cotton, Cinnamon seed and sandy bottom; Look away, look away, Look away, look away. Den 'way down South in de fields of cotton, Vinegar shoes and paper stockings; Look away, look away, Look away, look away. Den I wish I was in Dixie's Land, Oh--oh! Oh--oh! In Dixie's land I'll take my stand, And live and die in Dixie's Land, Away, away, away, Away down South in Dixie. Pork and cabbage in de pot, It goes in cold and comes out hot; Look away, look away, Look away, look away. Vinegar put right on red beet, It makes them always fit to eat; Look away, look away, Look away, look away. Den I wish I was in Dixie's Land, Oh--oh! Oh--oh! In Dixie's land I'll take my stand, And live and die in Dixie's Land, Away, away, away, Away down South in Dixie.