The Good Old Songs We Used to Sing, 61 to 65 | Page 6

they mounted guns,?And on Fort Sumter fired.--CHORUS.
They forced the war upon us,?For peaceful men are we;?They steal our money, seize our forts,?And then as cowards flee;?False to their vows and to the flag?That once protected them,?They sought the Union to dissolve,?Earth's noblest, brightest gem.--CHORUS.
We're in the right and will prevail,?The Stars and Stripes must fly,?The "bonnie blue flag" be hauled down,?And every traitor die;?Freedom and peace enjoyed by all?As ne'er was known before,?Our Spangled Banner wave on high,?With stars just thirty-four.--CHORUS.
[Illustration: BRIG. GEN. ISAAC F. QUINBY.]
AMERICA.
KEY OF F.
[Illustration: FIFTH CORPS.]
My country, 'tis of thee,?Sweet land of liberty,?Of thee I sing;?Land where my fathers died,?Land of the pilgrim's pride,?From every mountain side?Let freedom ring.
My native country, thee,?Land of the noble, free,?Thy name I love;?I love thy rocks and rills,?Thy woods and templed hills;?My heart with rapture thrills?Like that above.
Let music swell the breeze,?And ring from all the trees,?Sweet freedom's song;?Let mortal tongues awake,?Let all that breathe partake,?Let rocks their silence break,?The sound prolong.
Our father's God, to thee,?Author of liberty,?To thee I sing;?Long may our land be bright?With freedom's holy light;?Protect us by thy might,?Great God our King.
[Illustration: GEN. PETER J. OSTERHAUS.]
[Illustration: COMBINATION KNIFE, FORK, AND SPOON.]
KINGDOM COMING.
(Used by permission of S. Brainard's Sons, owners of the copyright.)
KEY OF C.
[Illustration: BRIG. GEN. ALBERT L. LEE.]
Say, darkies, hab you seen old massa,?Wid de muffstash on his face,?Go long de road some time dis mornin',?Like he gwine to leave de place??He seen a smoke way up de ribber?Whar de Linkum gunboats lay;?He took his hat an' left berry sudden,?An' I 'spect he's run'd away!
CHORUS.
De massa run, ha, ha!?De darky stay! ho, ho!?It mus' be now de kingdom comin'?An' de year of Jubilo!
He is six foot one way, four foot tudder,?An' he weigh tree hundred pounds;?His coat so big he couldn't pay de tailor,?An' it wouldn't go half way round;?He drill so much dey call him Cap'n,?An' he get so drefful tanned,?I 'spects he'll try an' fool dem Yankees?For to tink he's contraband.--CHORUS.
De darkies feel so lonesome libbing?In de log house on de lawn?Dey move dar tings to massa's parlor?For to keep it while he's gone.?Dar's wine an' cider in de kitchen,?An' de darkies dey'll hab some;?I s'pose dey'll all be confiscated?When de Linkum soldiers come.--CHO.
De oberseer he make us trubble,?An' he dribe us round a spell;?We lock him up in de smoke-house cellar,?Wid de key trown in de well;?De whip is lost, de han'cuff broken;?But de massa'll habe his pay;?He's ole enough, big enough, ought to know better?Dan to went and run away.--CHORUS.
[Illustration: BRIG. GEN. JOHN M'ARTHUR.]
THE VACANT CHAIR.
(Used by permission of S. Brainard's Sons.)
KEY OF A FLAT.
[Illustration: GEN. ALVIN P. HOVEY.]
We shall meet, but we shall miss him;?There will be one vacant chair;?We shall linger to caress him?While we breathe our evening prayer.?When, a year ago, we gathered?Joy was in his mild blue eye;?But a golden cord is severed,?And our hopes in ruin lie.
CHORUS.
We shall meet, but we shall miss him;?There will be one vacant chair;?We shall linger to caress him?When we breathe our evening prayer.
At our fireside, sad and lonely,?Often will the bosom swell?At remembrance of the story?How our noble Willie fell;?How he strove to bear our banner?Through the thickest of the fight,?And upheld our country's honor?In the strength of manhood's might.--CHORUS.
True, they tell us wreaths of glory?Evermore will deck his brow;?But this soothes the anguish only?Sweeping o'er our heart strings now.?Sleep, today, O early fallen!?In thy green and narrow bed;?Dirges from the pine and cypress?Mingle with the tears we shed.--CHORUS.
[Illustration: GEN. NATHAN KIMBALL.]
NEARER, MY GOD, TO THEE.
KEY OF G.
[Illustration: MAJ. GEN. E.O.C. ORD.]
Nearer, my God, to Thee,?Nearer to Thee!?E'en though it be a cross?That raiseth me!?Still all my song shall be,?Nearer my God, to Thee,?Nearer to Thee!
Though, like a wanderer,?The sun gone down,?Darkness be over me,?My rest a stone,?Yet in my dreams I'd be?Nearer, my God, to Thee,?Nearer to Thee!
There let the way appear?Steps unto heaven;?All that Thou sendest me?In mercy given;?Angels to beckon me?Nearer, my God, to Thee,?Nearer to Thee!
Then, with my waking thoughts?Bright with Thy praise,?Out of my stony griefs?Bethel I'll raise;?So by my woes to be?Nearer, my God, to Thee,?Nearer to Thee!
[Illustration: ADMIRAL DAVID D. PORTER.]
[Illustration: SHRAPNEL CONTAINING 80 MUSKET BALLS.]
TRAMP, TRAMP, TRAMP.
(Used by permission of S. Brainard's Sons.)
KEY OF B FLAT.
[Illustration: BRIG. GEN. EUGENE A. CARR.]
In the prison cell I sit, thinking, mother, dear, of you,?And our bright and happy home so far away,?And the tears they fill my eyes, spite of all that I can do, Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.
CHORUS.
Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching;?Cheer up, comrades, they will come,?And beneath the starry flag?We shall breathe the air again?Of the Free-land in our own beloved home.
[Illustration: FIRST CORPS.]
In the battle front we stood when the fiercest charge was made, And they swept us off a hundred men or more;?But