March on to the battlefield, there do or dare, With shoulder to shoulder, all danger to share, And let your proud watchword ring up to the sky, Till the blue arch re-echoes, "We conquer or die." Press forward undaunted, no thought of retreat, The enemy's host on the threshold to meet, Strike firm, 'til the foemen before you shall fly, Appalled by the watchword, "We conquer or die." Go forth in the pathway our forefathers trod; We too fight for freedom, our Captain is God, Their blood in our veins, with their honor we vie; Their's too was the watchword, "We conquer or die." We strike for the South: mountains, valley and plain, For the South we will conquer, again and again, Her day of salvation and triumph is nigh, Our's then be the watchword, "We conquer or die." GOD WILL DEFEND THE RIGHT. Words and Music by a Lady of Richmond. [The music of this song can be obtained of the Oliver Ditson Co., Boston, Mass.] Sons of the South arise, Rise in your matchless might, Your war-cry echo to the skies, "God will defend the right." Let-haughty tyrants know, Our sunny land shall be In spite of every foe, Home of the brave and free. CHORUS.--Sons of the South arise, Rise in your matchless might, Your war-cry echo to the skies, "God will defend the right." Our flag shall proudly stream, Defiant of assault, Bars of rainbows brightest beam, And stars from Heaven's blue vault. Thousands of true and brave, Their hero lives may end, O'er thousands that flag shall wave, Thousands its folds defend. CHORUS. No wrongs our breasts alarm, No fears our hearts appal, Unswerving justice nerves our arm, We cannot conquered fall. Think on our noble sires, Immortal in renown, Think on our altar-fires, And strike the oppressor down! CHORUS. With threats of horror dire, The fierce invader comes; We scorn his boasts, we scorn his ire, Striking for hearths and homes. Strike for our mothers now, For daughters, sisters, wives, Truly would each bestow, Were it ten thousand lives. CHORUS. RICHMOND ON THE JAMES; OR, THE DYING TEXAS SOLDIER BOY. A Parody by ANNIE MARIE NEEBY. A soldier boy from Texas lay gasping on the field, When the battle's shock was over, and the foe was forced to yield; He fell, a youthful hero, before the foeman's aims, On a blood-red field near Richmond--near Richmond on the James. But one still stood beside him--his comrade in the fray-- They had been friends together in boyhood's happy day; And side by side had struggled on fields of blood and flames, To part that eve at Richmond--near Richmond on the James.