The toil of the march is over--
The pack will be borne no more--
For we've come for the help of Richmond,
From the Rappahannock's shore.
The foe is closing round us--
We can hear his ravening cry;
So, ho! for fair old Richmond!
Like soldiers we'll do or die.

We have left the land that bore us,
Full many a league away,
And our mothers and sisters miss us,
As with tearful eyes they pray;
But this will repress their weeping,
And still the rising sigh--
For all, for fair old Richmond,
Have come to do or die.

We have come to join our brothers
From the proud Dominion's vales,
And to meet the dark-cheeked soldier,
Tanned by the Tropic gales;
To greet them all full gladly,
With hand and beaming eye,
And to swear, for fair old Richmond,
We all will do or die.

The fair Carolina sisters
Stand ready, lance in hand,
To fight as they did in an older war,
For the sake of their fatherland.
The glories of Sumter and Bethel
Have raised their fame full high,
But they'll fade, if for fair old Richmond
They swear not to do or die.

Zollicoffer looks down on his people,
And trusts to their hearts and arms,
To avenge the blood he has shed,
In the midst of the battle's alarms.
Alabamians, remember the past,
Be the "South at Manassas," their cry;
As onward for fair old Richmond,
They marched to do or die.

Brave Bartow, from home on high,
Calls the Empire State to the front,
To bear once more as she has borne
With glory the battle's brunt.
Mississippians who know no surrender,
Bear the flag of the Chief on high;
For he, too, for fair old Richmond,
Has sworn to do or die.

Fair land of my birth--sweet Florida--
Your arm is weak, but your soul
Must tell of a purer, holier strength,
When the drums for the battle roll.
Look within, for your hope in the combat,
Nor think of your few with a sigh--
If you win not for fair old Richmond,
At least you can bravely die.

Onward all! Oh! band of brothers!
The beat of the long roll's heard!
And the hearts of the columns advancing,
By the sound of its music is stirred.
Onward all! and never return,
Till our foes from the Borders fly--
To be crowned by the fair of old Richmond,
As those who could do or die.

Richmond Enquirer.

The Soldier in the Rain.