Sons of the South, awake to glory! A thousand voices bid you rise; Your children, wives and grandsires hoary, Gaze on you now with trusting eyes! Gaze on you now with trusting eyes!
Your country every strong arm calling, To meet the hireling Northern band That comes to desolate the land, With fire and flood and scenes appalling: To arms, to arms, ye brave! The avenging sword unsheathe! March on! march on! All hearts resolved on victory or death!
Now, now, the dangerous storm is rolling, Which treach'rous brothers madly raise: The dogs of war let loose are howling, And soon our peaceful towns may blaze! And soon our peaceful towns may blaze! Shall fiends who basely plot our ruin, Uncheck'd, advance with guilty stride, To spread destruction far and wide, With Southrons' blood their hands imbruing?
With needy, starving mobs surrounded, The jealous, blind fanatics dare To offer, in their zeal unbounded, Our happy slaves their tender care Our happy slaves their tender care! The South, tho' deepest wrongs bewailing, Long yielded all to Union's name, But independence now we claim, And all their threats are unavailing!
Francis D. Allan, 1874, "Allan's Lone Star Ballads, A Collection of Southern Patriotic Songs Made During Confederate Times," pp. 18-19. Burt Franklin NY, reprint pub. Lenox Hill (Burt Franklin), 1970. No author, or date, but presumably 1861-1863.