Though dreams of the past cling around the heart still, And a thousand proud memories will ever be cherished Of Princeton and Monmouth and brave Bunker Hill The spots where our country's defenders have perished; The union they bled for is now rudely severed, The idols are broken we once fondly revered, And discord has scattered its pestilent bane From Florida's reefs to the snow peaks of Maine. But union still gladdens our own sunny home, Whose bright blades and brave hearts will ever defend her, And though wreck and disaster and ruin may come, While the bright sun shines o'er them they never will surrender. Let the foeman come on in his daring effrontery, Let him trample the loved soil we call our dear country, And for every fair flower that fades in his path, A proud heart shall bleed 'neath the sword of our wrath. I WISH I WAS IN DIXIE'S LAND. By DAN D. EMMETT. [The music of this song can be obtained of Oliver Ditson Co., Boston, Mass.] I wish I was in de land ob cotton, Old times dar am not forgotten, Look away, look away, look away, Dixie Land! In Dixie land whar I was born in, Early on one frosty mornin', Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land! CHORUS.--Den I wish I was in Dixie-- Hooray, hooray! In Dixie land I'll took my stan'! To lib an' die in Dixie Away, away, Away down south in Dixie Away, away, Away down south in Dixie. Ole Missus marry "Will-de-Weaber," William was gay deceber Look away, etc. But when he put his arm around 'er He smiled as fierce as a forty-pounder Look away, etc. CHORUS. His face was sharp as a butcher's cleaber, But dat did not seem to grieb 'er, Look away, etc. Ole Missus acted de foolish part, An' died for a man dat broke her heart, Look away, etc. CHORUS. Now, here's a health to de next ole Missus, Ah! all de gals dat want to kiss us, Look away, etc. But if you want to drive 'way sorrow, Come an' hear dis song to-morrow, Look away, etc. CHORUS. Dar's buckwheat cakes an' Injun batter, Makes you fat, or a little fatter, Look away, etc. Den hoe it down and scratch your grabble, To Dixie's Land I'm bound to trabble, Look away, etc. CHORUS. CAMPAIGN BALLAD. By REV. J. E. CARNES. Young Florida sends forth her clan--the old Dominion's brave, With sons of Texas, lead the van to glory or the grave; Now, by the fame of Yorktown's name, and by the Alamo, The sons will not the fathers shame, though mightier be the foe.