YE BATTERIES OF BEAUREGARD
by James R. Barrick
(1829-1867)

Ye batteries of Beauregard!
	Pour hail from Moultrie's wall;
Bid the shock of your deep thunder
	On their fleet in terror fall;
Rain your storm of leaden fury
	On the black invading host--
Teach them that their steps shall never
	Press on Carolina's coast.
	
Ye batteries of Beauregard!
	Sound the story of our wrong;
Let your tocsin wake the spirit
	Of a people brave and strong;
The proud names of old remember--
	Marion, Sumter, Pinckney, Greene;
Swell the roll whose deeds of glory,
	Side by side with theirs are seen.
	
Ye batteries of Beauregard!
	From Savannah on them frown;
By the majesty of Heaven
	Strike their grand "Armada" down;
By the blood of many a freeman,
	By each dear-bought battlefield,
By each hope we fondly cherish,
	Never ye the victory yield!
	
Ye batteries of Beauregard!
	All along our Southern coast,
Let, in after-time, your triumphs
	Be a nation's pride and boast;
Send each missile with a greeting
	To the vile, ungodly crew;
Make them feel they ne'er can conquer
	People to themselves so true.
	
Ye batteries of Beauregard!
	By the glories of the past,
By the memory of old Sumter,
	Whose renown will ever last,
Speed upon their vaunted legions
	Volleys thick of shot and shell,
Bid them welcome in your glory,
	To their own appointed hell.

General Pierre Gustave Toutant Beauregard