  Flags a-waving, trumpets blowing Tides of feeling, ebbing, flowing. “On to battle! on to glory!” Tell again the wondrous story. Patriotism brightly burning, Tempered by a wise discerning. Town and State together crying:— “On to Richmond! time is flying!” Fateful summons, who could falter? Laying all on Freedom’s altar, “Forward! March!” proclaimed the nation, Why, the words were an ovation. Bugles tarnished, banners tattered, Bullet scarred and bruised and battered. Home they came with martial bearing, Home to cheer the hearts despairing; Home to children, wives and mothers, Home the living. (But the others.) On they came and eyes were tearful, Many eager, many fearful; Happy hearts, a happy meeting. And hearts “too sad to be alive;” Oh, thus it was in sixty-five. Flags a-waving, bugles blowing, Honor’s meed to worth bestowing. Laurel wreathes and roses blending, With the lily’s breath ascending; Offer tribute true and tender, Tribute to each brave defender For his country’s future caring, Firm! heroic! noble! daring! Soldiers, sailors, freemen listen Till thy cheeks with feeling glisten; By the banner waving o’er thee, Must Columbia adore thee. |
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