Stitch, stitch, stitch, Swiftly, little needle, fly, Through this flannel, soft and warm; Though with cold the soldiers sigh, This will sure keep out the storm. Set the buttons close and tight Out to shut the winter's damp; There'll be none to fix them right In the soldier's tented camp. Stitch, stitch, stitch; Ah! needle, do not linger; Close the thread, make firm the knot; There'll be no dainty finger To arrange a seam forgot. Though small and tiny you may be, Do all that you are able; A _mouse_ a lion once set free,-- As says the pretty fable. Stitch, stitch, stitch, Swiftly, little needle, glide, Thine's a pleasant labor; To clothe the soldier be thy pride, While he wields the sabre. Ours are tireless hearts and hands; To Southern wives and mothers, All who join our warlike bands Are our friends and brothers. Stitch, stitch, stitch, Little needle, swiftly fly, From the morning until eve, As the moments pass thee by, These substantial comforts weave. Busy thoughts are at our hearts-- Thoughts of hopeful cheer, As we toil till day departs For the noble volunteer. Quick, quick, quick, Swifter, little needle, go; From our homes most pleasant fires Let a loving greeting flow To our brothers and our sires; We have tears for those who fall,-- Smiles for those who laugh at fear,-- Hope and sympathy for all,-- Every noble volunteer. GENERAL LEE AT THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. By TENELLA. There he stood, the grand old hero, great Virginia's god-like son, Second unto none in glory--equal of her Washington; Gazing on his line of battle, as it wavered to and fro 'Neath the front and flank advances of the almost conquering foe; Calm as was that clear May morning, ere the furious death-roar broke From the iron-throated war lions crouching 'neath the cloudy smoke; Cool, as tho' the battle raging was but mimicry of fight, Each brigade an ivory castle, and each regiment a knight; Chafing in reserve beside him, two brigades of Texans lay, All impatient for their portion in the fortune of the day. Shot and shell are 'mong them falling, yet unmov'd they silent stand, Longing, eager for the battle, but awaiting his command: Suddenly he rode before them, as the forward line gave way, Rais'd his hat with courtly gesture, "Follow me and save the day!" But, as tho' by terror stricken, still and silent stood that troop, Who were wont to rush to battle with a fierce avenging whoop. It was but a single moment, then a murmur thro' them ran, Heard above the cannon's roaring, as it passed from man to man, "You go back and we'll go forward!" now the waiting leader hears, Mixed with deep impatient sobbing, as of strong men moved to tears, Once again he gives the order, "I'll lead you on the foe!" Then, thro' all the line of battle rang a loud determined "No!"