CHORUS.--If you will join the Dixie band, Here's my heart and here's my hand, If you will join the Dixie band; We're fighting for a home. The Northern foes have trod us down, The Northern foes have trod us down, The Northern foes have trod us down, But we will rise with true renown. CHORUS. The tyrants they must leave our door, The tyrants they must leave our door, The tyrants they must leave our door, Then we'll be free in Baltimore. CHORUS. These hirelings they'll never stand, These hirelings they'll never stand, These hirelings they'll never stand, Whenever they see the Southern band. CHORUS. Old Abe has got into a trap, Old Abe has got into a trap, Old Abe has got into a trap, And he can't get out with his Scotch cap. CHORUS. Nobody's hurt is easy spun, Nobody's hurt is easy spun, Nobody's hurt is easy spun, But the Yankees caught it at Bull Run. CHORUS. We'll rally to Jeff Davis true, Beauregard and Johnston, too, Magruder, Price, and General Bragg, And give three cheers for the Southern Flag. CHORUS. We'll drink this toast to one and all, Keep cocked and primed for the Southern call; The day will come, we'll make a stand, Then we'll be free in Maryland. CHORUS. JANUARY 30, 1862. [Illustration: Artillery Button.] THE SOUTHRON'S WAR-SONG. By J. A. WAGINER. _Charleston Courier._ Arise! arise! with main and might, Sons of the sunny clime! Gird on the sword; the sacred fight The holy hour doth chime. Arise, the craven host draws nigh, In thundering array; Arise! ye braves! let cowards fly-- The hero bides the fray. Strike hard, strike hard, thou noble band; Strike hard with arm of fire! Strike hard, for God and fatherland, For mother, wife, and sire! Let thunders roar, the lightning flash Bold Southrons never fear The bay'net's point, the sabre's crash-- True Southrons, do and dare! Bright flow'rs spring from the hero's grave; The craven knows no rest! Thrice curs'd the traitor and the knave! The hero thrice is bless'd. Then let each noble Southron stand, With bold and manly eye: We'll do for God and fatherland; We'll do, we'll do, or die! KNITTING FOR THE SOLDIERS. By MARY J. UPSHUR. Knitting for the soldiers. How the needles fly! Now with sounds of merriment-- Now with many a sigh! Knitting for the soldiers! Panoply for feet-- Onward, bound to victory! Rushing in retreat! Knitting for the soldiers! Wrinkled--aged crone, Plying flying needles By the ember stone.