A cloud possessed the hollow field, the gathering battle's smoky shield:
A Farmer came to camp one day, with milk and eggs to sell
A flying word from here and there has sown the name at which we sneered
A gallant foeman in the fight, a brother when the fight was o'er
Ah! may the red rose live alway
Alas! the weary hours pass slow
All day long the sun had wandered through the slowly creeping hours
Always stand on the Union side, and battle for the right
A march in the ranks hard-prest, and the road unknown
"All quiet along the Potomac to-night!"
Amid the clouds of battle smoke the sun had died away
An' you don' know Tom Traynham?
Angels of good and ill are every where; they haunt the city and the cottage lone
Another ray of light hath fled, another Southern brave hath fallen
Arms reversed and banners craped -- muffled drums
Army of Northern Virginia, army of legend
Ashes of soldiers South or North
As I lay with my head in your lap camerado
A sight in camp in the daybreak gray and dim, as from my tent I emerge so early sleepless
A soldier had fallen! 'Tis well that we weep!
At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay, on board of the Cumberland sloop-of-war
At my post I am standing, tis a dark dreary night
A wail swells o'er the valley, Virginia, deep with woe
Away down South in the land of traitors, rattlesnakes and alligators
Away from Mississippi's vale, with my ol' hat there for a sail
Aye, deem us proud, for we are more than proud of all our mighty dead

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B

Beat! beat! drums! -- blow! bugles! blow!
Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me
Beautiful feet, with maidenly tread, offerings bring to the gallant dead
Beneath Virginia's sunlit skies, where oaks their shadows throw
Bob Roebuck is my sweetheart's name
Brave Grant, thou hero of the war, thou art the emblem of the morning star
Breathe not a whisper here; the place where thou dost stand is hallowed ground
"Bury me on the field, boys," and away to the glorious fight
By the flow of the inland river, whence the fleets of iron have fled
By the sword of St. Michael the old dragon through

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C

Calm as that second summer which precedes the first fall of snow
Calmly sleeps the youthful soldier, life's rough march with him is o-er
Cheer, boys, cheer! We'll march away to battle!
Cherished one, do not grow weary, God is ever up on high
Clash, clash goes the sabre against my steed's side
Close his eyes; his work is done!
Come all ye true friends of the nation, attend to humanity's call
Come all ye valiant soldiers -- a story I will tell
Come friends and fellow soldiers brave, come listen to our song
Come on, Marse Robert, throw yourself into the saddle
"Come out that grey!" a Yankee cried
Come Sisters of a Soldier Boy
Come, stack arms, men. Pile on the rails, stir up the campfire bright - poem || song
Come up from the fields, father, here's a letter from our Pete
Convulsions came; and, where the field long slept in pastoral green
"Corporal Green!" the Orderly cried; "Here!" was the answer loud and clear

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D

Daar kom die Alibama
Dark as the clouds of even, ranked in the western heaven
Dawn of a pleasant morning in May, broke through the Wilderness cool and gray
Day after day our way has been o'er many a hill and hollow
De Camptown ladies sing dis song -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De Glendy Burk is mighty fast boat
De time is nebber dreary if de darkey nebber groans
Dearest Love, do you remember, when we last did meet [Northern version]
Dearest Love, do you remember, when we last did meet [Southern version]
Did all the lets and bars appear to every just or larger end
Do we weep for the heroes who died for us, who living were true and tried for us
Drift over the sunrise land, oh, wonderful, wonderful snow!

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F

Fair were our nation's visions, and as grand as ever floated out of fancy-land
Far up the lonely mountain-side my wandering footsteps led
Farewell, dear, young friends; though parting is painful
Farewell! we must part; we have turned from the land of our cold-hearted brother
Farragut, Farragut, Old Heart of Oak
Father! whose hard and cruel law is part of thy compassion's plan
Five Zouaves killed! -- one thousand in all -- five from a thousand? Then he may be one
Fold away all your bright-tinted dresses, turn the key on your jewels today
Fold it up carefully, lay it aside; tenderly touch it, look on it with pride
Forth from its scabbard, pure and bright, flashed the sword of Lee!
Four stormy years we saw it gleam
From Shenandoah's valley fair, borne on the chilly midnight air
Furl that Banner, for 'tis weary; round its staff 'tis drooping dreary

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G

Gallant nation, foiled by numbers! Say not that your hopes are fled
Glide, river, gently to the sea
Glory and honor and fame and everlasting laudation
God save the South, God save the South
Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay
Good Friday was the day of the prodigy and crime
Good people all, both great and small, I sing a song of pity

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H

Had they fallen in the battle, with the old flag waving high
Hail! Massachusetts' cod-fish Mars! Immortal Picayune!
Hail, symbol of the Sunny South!
Half a mile, half a mile, half a mile onward
Halt!--the march is over, day is almost done
Happy are they and charmed in life who through long wars arrive unscarred
"Hats off" in the crowd. "Present arms" in the line!
Have you heard of a story that gossips tell of Burns of Gettysburg? No? Ah, well
He fought the fight to finish, and his soldier's work is done
He is dead, the beautiful youth, the heart of honor, the tongue of truth
He rides at their head; a crutch by his saddle just slants in view
He sleeps, "the little general" sleeps
Heard ye that thrilling word -- Accent of dread
How many springs have gone since they who wore the uniform of gray
Hurrah for the choice of the nation

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I

I am dying comrades dying
I am Dying, Egypt, dying, ebbs the crimson life-tide fast
I came from Alabama, wid my banjo on my knee
I come from old Manassas with a pocketful of fun
If we knew when friends around us closely press to say goodbye
If you want to have a good time, jine the cavalry
I have a feeling for those ships, each worn and ancient one
I hear again the tread of war go thundering through the land
I heard the bells on Christmas Day their old familiar carols play
I know the sun shines, and the lilacs are blowing
I lay in my tent at mid-day, too full of pain to die
I leave my home and thee, dear, with sorrow in my heart
I met him again, he was trudging along, his knapsack with chickens was swelling
In a southern forest gloomy and old, so lately the scene of a terrible fight
In the prison cell I sit, thinking, mother, dear, of you
In prison, when the sun was up, each "reb" licked clean his plate and cup
In the cool, sweet hush of a wooded nook
Into the ward of the clean white-washed halls
I picture her there in the quaint old room, where the fading fire-light starts and falls
I read last night of the Grand Review in Washington's chiefest avenue
I read the marble-lettered name, and half in bitterness I said
I saw the soldiers come today from battlefield afar
I see before me now a traveling army halting
It is portentous, and a thing of state that here at midnight, in our little town
It is done! Clang of bell and roar of gun send the tidings up and down
It was that fierce contested field where Chickamauga lay
I've come shust now to tells you how, I goes mit regimentals
I've traveled this country all over, and now to another must go
I was a rebel, if you please, a reckless fighter to the last
I wear a splendid uniform; I ride a splendid nag
I wish I was in the land of cotton

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J

Jeff Davis was a hero bold
"Jim ---, of Biloxi." That is all. It is graven into the granite wall
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave
John came in excellent style, to be sure
Just as the spring came laughing through the strife with all its gorgeous cheer
Just before the battle, Mother, I am thinking most of you

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K

Kathleen, mavourneen, the grey dawn is breaking

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L

Last night as I toasted my wet feet and roasted a small bit of beef by a similar blaze
Left for dead? I -- Charlie Coleman, on the field we won -- and lost, like a dog
Let's go see Old Abe sitting in the marble and the moonlight
Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears
Lonely, dying among strangers
Lynx-eyed, cat-quiet, sleepy mild, he could seem a wary child

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M

Major General Scott an order had got to push on the column to Richmond
Many years have passed since Shiloh Day
'Mid pleasures and palaces though I may roam
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord
Morgan, Morgan the raider, and Morgan's terrible men
My brave lad sleeps in his faded coat of blue
Mine heart ish proken into little pits, I tells you friend what for
Must I die so soon? ah, far away by blue Ohio's shore
My wife is a most knowing woman, she always is finding me out

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N

"Niggers won't fight" ah ha!
No Epitaph more noble or sublime hath e'er been written in all tide of time
No more words; try it with your swords!
No sleep. The sultriness pervades the air and blinds the brain
Not 'mid the lightning of the stormy fight, not in the rush upon the vandal foes

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O

O brother bards, why stand ye silent all
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done
O gallant brothers of the generous South, foes for a day and brothers for all time!
Oh, band in the pine-wood, cease! Cease with your splendid call
Oh, Dixie, the land of King Cotton
Oh, Frémont he told them when the war it first begun
Oh, I'm a good old Rebel soldier, now that's just what I am
Oh, I went down South for to see my Sal
Oh, Righteous Cause, for which we fought, and for which thousands died
Oh, slow to smite and swift to spare, gentle and merciful and just!
Oh, we're the bully soliders of the "First of Arkansas"
Oh, yes, I am a Southern girl
Oh, you told me that you'd meet me at the White House, Jeff
O! I am a conscript
On the ninth of April sixty five, long remembered be the day
On the unstained sward of the gentle slope, full of valor and nerved by hope,
Once more to the breach for the Land of the West!
One man we claim of wrought reknown which not the North shall care to slur
One noonday, at my window in the town, I saw a sight -- saddest that eyes can see
Only a private -- and who will care when I may pass away
Only a soldier's grave! Pass by, for soldiers, like other mortals, die
Only one killed -- in Company B; 'twas a trifling loss -- one man!
On the bloody field of battle, one dark night, with stealthy tread
"Order A.P. Hill to prepare for battle."
Our camp-fires shone bright on the mountains that frowned on the river below
Our flag is proudly floating on the land and on the main
Our flag is unfurl'd and our arms flash bright
Our Jimmy has gone for to live in a tent
Out of the focal and foremost fire, out of the hospital walls as dire
O say, can you see -- though perhaps you're too tight
O, when the poar pris'ner is put in the jaile

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P

Plain be the phrase, yet apt the verse, more ponderous than nimble
Plying the busy fingers over the vestments old
Proud mother of a race that reared the brave and good of ours

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Q

Quietly lay that grand old corps, waiting and watching its powerful foe

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R

Rebels! 't is a holy name!
Representing nothing on God's earth now, and naught in the waters below it
Rifleman, shoot me a fancy shot straight at the heart of yon prowling vidette
Ring the good ol' bugle, boys, we'll sing another song
Round de meadows am a ringing de darkeys' mournful song
Row after row with strict impunity the headstones yield their names to the element

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S

Said Beauregard, to Lee, and Jeff, "These Yankees sons of thunder"
Say, darkies, hab you seen de massa, wid de muffstah on his face
Says Stonewall Jackson to "Little Phil": "Phil, have you heard the news?
Scarred on a hundred fields before, naked and starved and travel-sore
See, where the morning's beam purples the Cedar stream
Send them home tenderly
Shades of our heroes dead, sleeping in glory
Shall we send back the Johnnies their bunting, in token, from Blue to the Grayy
She has gone -- she has left us in passion and pride
She is old, and bent, and wrinkled, in her rocker in the sun
Shoe the steed with silver that bore him to the fray
Silver clear above the river, hear the bugle calling!
Sittin' by the roadside on a summer's day
Skimming lightly, wheeling still, the swallows fly low
Sleep sweetly in your humble graves, sleep, martyrs of a fallen cause
Soldier, say, did you meet my Jimmy in the fight?
Soldiers are we from the mountain and valley
Some tell me 'tis a burnin' shame to make the naygers fight
So that soldierly legend is still on its journey,-- that story of Kearny who knew not to yield!
South Mountain towered on our right, far off the river lay
Southrons, hear your country call you
Summer of 'sixty-three, sir, and Conrad was gone away
Sweet Ellie Rhee, so dear to me, is lost forever more
Sweet women of the South, come gather 'round this silent figure

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T

The apples are ripe in the orchard, the work of the reaper is done
The bright rose of beauty, unnurtur'd by art
The bugle sounds upon the plain, our men are gath'ring fast
The cavalry-camp lies on the slope of what was late a vernal hill
The combat ranged not long, but our's the day
The congressmen came out to see Bull Run, the congressmen who like free shows and spectacles
The cruel war must have an end
The despot treads thy sacred sands
The despot's heel is on thy shore, Maryland, my Maryland!
The drapery of Heaven hung low in dark and gloomy shrouds
The drummer with his drum shouting "Come! heroes, come!"
The firmament breaks up, In black eclipse light after light goes out
The flags of war like storm birds fly, the charging trumpets blow
The general dashed along the road amid the pelting rain
The knightliest knights of the knightly race who, since the days of old
The languid Southern night was faint with wafted breath of odorous bloom!
The man was loved, the man was idolized
The Man who fiercest charged in fight, whose sword and prayer were long -- Stonewall!
The marching armies of the past along our Southern plains
The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone
The muffled drum's sad roll has beat the soldier's last tattoo
The noble sire fallen on evil days
The plumed staff officer gallops along the swaying line
The ranks were full when they hurried away, the drums rolling gaily, the bugles a-play
The sharp, clear crack of rifles, and the deep loud thunder of artillery
The Star-Spangled Cross and the pure field of white is the banner we give to the breeze
The stars were bright, the breeze was still, the cicada and the whippoorwill alone disturbed the scene
The sun had set; the leaves with dew were wet
The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home
The war steed is champing his bit with disdain, and wild is the flash of his eye
The wintry blast goes wailing by, the snow is falling overhead
They are firing the cannon now - Will it bring me back my dead?
The years creep slowly by, Lorena
There are bonds of all sorts in this world of ours
There are tears and wails in the old brown house on the hillside steep today
There comes the Alabama
There is a cap in the closet, old, tattered, and blue
There is a flag as yet unsung, a banner bright and fair
There was no union in the land, though wise men labored long
There's an empty seat where the old folks meet
There's a yellow rose in Texas that I am going to see
There's not a stately hall, there's not a cottage fair
They have met at last -- as storm-clouds meet in heaven
Tho' Homor sings of Grecian Isles in strains that every heart beguiles
Thou wilt come no more, gentle Annie
Though Prison Bars my Freedom mars
Though we're a band of prisoners, let each be firm and true
Three years ago to-day we raised our hands to heaven
Thy flesh to earth, thy soul to God, we gave, O gallant brother
'Tis old Stonewall the Rebel that leans on his sword
To go or not to go, that is the question
To the brave all homage render! Weep, ye skies of June!
Tut-tut! give back the flags -- how can you care, you veterans and heroes?
'Twas colder than Zero on Christmas eve night
'Twas Friday morn, the train drew near the city and the shore!
'Twas in the dying of the day the darkness grew so still
'Twas in the sultry summer-time, as war's red records show
Two armies covered hill and plain
Two little boys had two little toys

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U

Unclaimed by the land that bore us, lost in the land
Up from the meadows rich with corn, clear in the cool September morn
Up from the South, at break of day, bringing to Winchester fresh dismay

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W

Walking into the shadows, walking alone where the sun falls through the ruined boughs of locust
Way down upon the Swannee ribber, far, far away
We are a band of brothers and native to the soil
We are coming, Father Abraham, 300,000 more
We are gathered here a feeble few of those who wore the gray
We could not pause, while yet the noontide air shook with the cannonade's incessant pealing
We do accept thee, heavenly Peace! Albeit thou comest in a guise unlooked for
We hail your "Stripes" and lessened "Stars"
We live in hard and stirring times, too sad for mirth, too rough for rhymes
We're fighting for our Union, we're fighting for our trust
We're the boys who went around McClellian
We're tenting tonight on the old camp ground
We shall meet but we shall miss him, there will be one vacant chair
We wait beneath the furnace-blast the pangs of transformation
What are the thoughts that are stirring his breast? What is the mystical vision he sees?
What are you waiting for, George, I pray?
What! Salomon! such words from you, who call yourself a soldier?
What shall we say now of our knight
When all the sky was wild and dark, when every heart was wrung with fear
When I was young and full of faith and other fads that youngsters cherish
When Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah! Hurrah!
When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom'd
When tempest winnowed grain from bran; and men were looking for a man
When this you see remember me
When our country called for men we came from forge and hill
When the blackbird in the spring, on the willow tree
Where the troopers fed their horses, where the bummers bivouacked
While my wife at my side lies slumbering, and the wars are over long
While Sherman stood beneath the hot test fire, that from the lines of Vicksburg gleamed
Who are the men that clamor most against the war
"Who've we got there?" "Only a dying brother, hurt in the front just now."
Why was it that the thunder voice of Fate should call thee, studious, from the classic groves
Will you come with me, my Phyllis dear, to yon blue mountain free?
With muffled drums and the flag that was furled
Would'st thou have me love thee, dearest, with a woman's proudest heart
Would you like to hear my song? I'm afraid it's rather long

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Y

Yankee Doodle had a mind to whip the Southern traitors
Ye batteries of Beauregard!
Ye elms that wave on Malvern Hill in prime of morn and May
Ye Southern maids and ladies fair, of whatsoe'r degree
Yes, give me the land where the ruins are spread, and the living tread light on the heart of the dead
Yes! raise me on your arm, Dick Dale, my comrade old and true
Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again
You are going to the wars, Willie boy, Willie boy
You go, my son, to the battle-field to repel the invading foe
Your letter, lady, came too late, for Heaven had claimed its own
You see, my jolly comrades, we are ripe and prime for battle

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Last modified 02-July-2002