And the lips of the mothers will bless you, As angels sweet visaged and pale; And the little ones run to caress you, And the wives and the sisters cry Hail! But e'en if you drop down unheeded, What matter? God's ways are the best! You have pour'd out your life where 'twas needed, And He will take care of the rest. TO THE DAVIS GUARD. By LIEUT. W. P. CUNNINGHAM. Soldiers! raise your banner proudly, Let it pierce our Texan sky-- Hurrah! it was shouted loudly-- "We will do it or we'll die!" Thus spoke the heroic Dowling! To his Irish gallant band: "Let us send the foes a howling, From our lovely Texas land!" Nobly answer'd those brave men all, To his soul-stirring appeal; "Aye, we'll drive them away or fall; We'll fight them with lead and steel." The Irishmen desert never The people that treat them well; Their friends they love forever; Their foes may "go to ----!" "Steady, steady, keep cool, my boys, Now they are near--ready--fire!" Thus their noble chieftain cries, And they fire and never tire. Hear the heavy, thundering sound, The men of war they cry; The dull earth itself resounds As the foemen fight and die. But hurrah! the white flag's flying-- See, they spare the fallen foe! They attend the wounded--dying-- The brave will have it so. O, Davis Guards! ye men of war, You've made a glorious name! Thus always guard our Texas Star, And preserve, for aye, your fame. And when around the social glass In years to come, you meet, O ne'er forget the Sabine Pass! But its mem'ries fondly greet. WAR SONG. By J. H. WOODCOCK. _Tune_--"_Bonnie Blue Flag._" Huzza! huzza! let's raise the battle cry, And whip the Yankees from our land, Or with them fall and die; Rush on our Southern columns, And make the brigands feel That all the booty they will get, Will be our Southern steel. CHORUS.--Huzza! huzza! let's raise our banner high, And nobly drive the Yankees out, Or with them fall and die. We are fighting for our mothers, our sisters and our wives; For these, and our country's rights, We'll sacrifice our lives. Then trusting still to Heaven, We'll charge th' invading host, Till liberty and independence Shall be the Nation's boast. CHORUS. Then on with our columns--slay the vandal foe-- Beat them from our sunny soil, And lay their colors low. To the great God of Nations Our sacred cause confide, For we are fighting for our liberty And He is on our side. CHORUS. THE SOUTH FOR ME.