Quick as thought a gallant Major, with a firm and vice-like grasp, Seized the General's bridle, shouting, "Forward, boys! I'll hold him fast!" Then again the hat was lifted, "Sir, I am the older man: Loose my bridle, I will lead them!" in a measured tone and calm. Trembling with suppressed emotion, with intense excitement hot, In a quivering voice, the Texan, "No, by God, sir, you shall not!" By them swept the charging squadron, with a loud exultant cheer, "We'll retake the salient, General, if you'll watch us from the rear!" And they kept their word right nobly, sweeping every foe away, With that grand grey head uncovered, watching how they saved the day-- But the god-like calm was shaken, which no battle shock could move, By this true, spontaneous token of his soldiers' child-like love! MY NOBLE WARRIOR, COME! By MRS. COL. C. G. F----Y. _Air--"The Rock Beside the Sea."_ O, tell me not that earth is fair, that spring is in its bloom, While young hearts, hourly, everywhere meet such untimely doom; That sweet on wind, of morn or eve, the violet's breath may be, Let me but know thy banner waves, and leads to victory! Let me but know, etc. The thundering battle's distant roar, the host's victorious cry, Unto my trembling heart is more than all earth's melody; Come back, my noble warrior, come! there's but one prayer for me, 'Till I can greet thy banner home, proud banner of the free! Till I can greet, etc. SONG OF THE PRIVATEER By ALEX. A. CUMMINS. Fearlessly the seas we roam, Tossed by each briny wave; Its boundless surface is our home, Its bosom deep our graves. No foreign mandate fills with awe Our gallant hearted band; We know no home, we know no law, But that of Dixie's land. The bright star is our compass true, Our chart the ocean wide; Our only hope the noble few That's standing side by side; We do not fear the stormy gale That sweeps old ocean's strand; We scorn our enemy's clumsy sail, And all for Dixie's land. We love to hoist to the topmost peak, _Our Southern Stars and Stripes_; And woe to him who dares to seek To trample on their rights! It is the ægis of the free, And by it we will stand, And watch it waving o'er the sea, And over Dixie's land. We love to roam the deep, deep sea, And hear the cannon's boom, And give the war-cry, wild and free, Amid the battle's gloom, We do not fight alone for gain, So far from native strand; But our country's freedom and its fame, And the fair of Dixie's land. HOOD'S TEXAS BRIGADE.