As the blue-clad lines Swept fearfully near, There was wavering yonder, And a break in the cheer Of our columns unsteady: But "WE ARE HERE! _We_ are ready With rifle and blade!" Cried the Texas Brigade To General Lee. He smiled--it meant death, That wonderful smile; It leaped like a flame Down each close set file; And we stormed to the front With a long, loud cry-- We had long ago learned How to charge and to die: There was faith in the eye Of General Lee. But a sudden pause came, As we dashed on the foe, And our scathing columns Swayed to and fro; Cold grew our blood, Glowing like wine, And a quick, sharp whisper Shot over our line, As our ranks opened wide-- _And there by our side Rode General Lee._ How grandly he rode! With his eyes on fire, And his great bosom shook With an awful desire! But, "Back to the rear! 'Till you ride to the rear We will not do battle With gun or with blade!" Cried the Texas Brigade To General Lee. [Illustration: Gen. Robert E. Lee.] And so he rode back; And our terrible yell Stormed up to the front; And the fierce, wild swell, And the roar and the rattle, Swept into the battle From General Lee. I felt my foot slip In the gathering fray-- I looked, and my brother Lay dead in my way. I paused but one moment To draw him aside; Ah! the gash in his bosom Was bloody and wide! But he smiled, for he died For General Lee. Christ! 'twas maddening work; But the work was done, And a few came back When the hour was won. Let it glow in the peerless Records of the fearless-- The charge that was made By the Texas Brigade For General Lee. A SOUTHERN SONG. By "L. M.," in _Louisville Courier_. If ever I consent to be married, And who would refuse a good mate? The man whom I give my hand to, Must believe in the rights of the State. To a husband who quietly submits To negro-equality sway, The true Southern girl will not barter Her heart and affections away. The heart I may choose to preside o'er, True, warm, and devoted must be, And have true love for a Union Under the Southern Liberty Tree. Should Lincoln attempt to coerce him To share with the negro his right, Then, smiling, I'd gird on his armor, And bid him God-speed in the fight. And if he should fall in the conflict, His memory with tears I will grace; Better weep o'er a patriot fallen, Than blush in a Tory embrace. We girls are all for a Union, Where a marked distinction is laid Between the rights of the mistress And those of the kinky-haired maid. THE TEXAN MARSEILLAISE. By JAMES HAINES, of Texas.