From our far Southern shore now arises a prayer, While the cry of our women fills with anguish the air. O! list that pleading voice, Each youth now make his choice; Now tamely submit like a coward or slave, Or rise and resist like the free and the brave. CHORUS. Kentucky! Kentucky! can you suffer the sight Of your sisters insulted, your friends in the fight? Awake! be free again! O! break the tyrant's chain: Let each hand seize the sword it drew for the right, From the homes of your fathers drive the dastard in flight. CHORUS. KNOXVILLE, TENN., July 4, 1862. FOR BALES. _Air--"Johnny, fill up the bowl."_ [The music of this song can be procured of the Oliver Ditson Co., Boston, Mass., owners of the copyright.] We all went down to New Orleans, For Bales, for Bales; We all went down to New Orleans, For Bales, says I; We all went down to New Orleans To get a peep behind the scenes, "And we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny, fill up the bowl." We thought when we got in the "ring," For Bales, for Bales; We thought when we got in the "ring," For Bales, says I; We thought when we got in the "ring," Greenbacks would be a dead sure thing, "And we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny, fill up the bowl." The "ring" went up with bagging and rope, For Bales, for Bales; Upon the "Black Hawk" with bagging and rope, For Bales, says I; Went up "Red River" with bagging and rope, Expecting to make a pile of "soap," "And we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny, fill up the bowl." But Taylor and Smith, with ragged ranks, For Bales, for Bales; But Taylor and Smith, with ragged ranks, For Bales, says I; But Taylor and Smith, with ragged ranks, Burned up the cotton and whipped old Banks, "And we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny, fill up the bowl." Our "ring" came back and cursed and swore, For Bales, for Bales; Our "ring" came back and cursed and swore, For Bales, says I; Our "ring" came back and cursed and swore, For we got no cotton at Grand Ecore, "And we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny, fill up the bowl." Now let us all give praise and thanks, For Bales, for Bales; Now let us all give praise and thanks, For Bales, says I; Now let us all give praise and thanks For the victory (?) gained by General Banks, "And we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny, fill up the bowl." THE SONG OF THE SOUTH. Hurrah for the South, the glorious South! the land of song and story-- Her name shall ring, and the world shall sing her honor, fame, and glory; For the skies above, which smiled in love, are dark with hearth-fires burning; She rises in might to defend the right, on her treacherous brethren turning.