THE SOLDIER'S SUIT OF GRAY. By MISS CARRIE BELL SINCLAIR. I've seen some handsome uniforms deck'd off with buttons bright, And some that are so very gay they almost blind the sight; But of these handsome uniforms I will not sing to-day, My song is to each soldier lad who wears a suit of gray! CHORUS.--Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! for Southern boys we say, And God bless every soldier lad who wears a suit of gray! Brass buttons and gold lace I know are beautiful to view, And then, to tell the honest truth, I own I like them, too; Yet should a thousand officers come crowding round to-day, I'd scorn them for a lad who wears a simple suit of gray. CHORUS. God bless our Southern soldiers! for ev'ry one is dear, And God defend each gallant form, no matter what they wear; For each has acted well his part, yet still, in truth, I say, The bravest of the brave are those who wear a suit of gray. CHORUS. Tho' torn and faded be each coat, their buttons tarnish'd too, I know beneath each soldier's dress a Southern heart beats true; We honor ev'ry gallant son who fights for us to-day, And heav'n protect the noble boys who wear the suit of gray. CHORUS. They bravely strike for freedom, and on the battle-field, They're the first to strike a blow, they are the last to yield; At Richmond and Manassas who was it won the day? It was our noble Southern boys, all clad in suits of gray. CHORUS. God bless our Southern soldiers! for each we breathe a prayer, And over ev'ry fallen son we shed a mourner's tear! Oh, sacred be the grave of those who died so far away, And honor'd be each one who sleeps clad in a suit of gray. (Omit chorus.) 'Round ev'ry patriot soldier's brow the laurel wreath entwines, And 'round the battle-flag they bear a ray of glory shines, And when the foe is conquer'd, with pride we then will say, "All honor to the noble boys who wore the suit of gray." CHORUS. (A CHORUS, AFTER THE BATTLE OF FRANKLIN)-- You may talk about your Beauregard, and sing of General Lee, But General Hood, of Texas, played hell in Tennessee. SONG OF THE TEXAS RANGERS. By MRS. J. D. YOUNG. _Air--"The Yellow Rose of Texas."_ The morning star is paling, the camp-fires flicker low, Our steeds are madly neighing, for the bugle bids us go: So put the foot in stirrup, and shake the bridle free, For to-day the Texas Rangers must cross the Tennessee. With Wharton for our leader, we'll chase the dastard foe, 'Till our horses bathe their fetlocks in the deep blue Ohio.