THE WOODS OF TENNESSEE.

But you

you must be strong and bright; You are a soldier's wife:

I'll think of you by day and night,

Your love shall nerve me in the fight;
Good-by, my love, my life!

Louisville, Ky.

THE WOODS OF TENNESSEE.

ANONYMOUS.

THE whip-poor-will is calling

From its perch on the splintered limb, And the plaintive notes are echoing Through the aisles of the forest dim : The slanting threads of starlight

Are silvering shrub and tree,

And the spot where the loved are sleeping, In the woods of Tennessee.

The leaves are gently rustling,

But they're stained with a tinge of red
For they proved to many a soldier
Their last and lonely bed.

As they prayed in mortal agony
To God to set them free,

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A CALL TO THE BRAVE.

Death touched them with his finger,
In the woods of Tennessee.

In the list of the killed and wounded,
Ab, me! alas! we saw
The name of our noble brother,
Who went to the Southern war.
He fell in the tide of battle

On the banks of the old "Hatchie,"
And rests 'neath the wild grape arbors
In the woods of Tennessee.

There's many still forms lying
In their forgotten graves,
On the green slope of the hill-sides
Along Potomac's waves;

But the memory will be ever sweet
Of him so dear to me,

On his country's altar offered,

In the woods of Tennessee.

A CALL TO THE BRAVE.

UP, up ye sons of freedom! born

Beneath our nation's God-blest sky,

A CALL TO THE BRAVE.

God and our country call you forth

To fight, to conquer, or to die.

Shall our fair land, by heaven so blest,
Become a tyrant monarch's throne ?
Shall thy God's altars desecrate

Around whose shrines our hearts have grown?

Shall they, beneath a grinding heel,

Tread down our brave and noble men?

Shall they, with despot's iron rule,

Make of our land a demon's den?

Shall prayers and tears and sighs and groans
Move Heaven's great listening heart to tears,
While ye sit still with folded hands
Nursing a coward's craven fears?

Shall our forefathers from their graves
Rise up to see the traitor tread
Over their blood-bought resting-place ?
Over their blood-stained coffin-bed?
Shall they rise up to taunt ye now
In this our nation's peril hour?
Shall God look down and see his courts
Degraded by a tyrant's power?

Ah, no! thank God, you see your place!
You do your duty for the right !

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THE VOLUNTEER'S WIFE

Brave hearts, ye have our truest prayers
That God may help you in His might.
You have our prayers, you have our tears,
You have our truest sympathy

God shield and guard and bless you all,
In this your fight for liberty.

Though life may falter when we part
With brother, father, husband, friend,
That God above who reads each heart
Shall find us with you to the end;
Be brave, and in the battle's din,

Amid the smoke of muskets bright,
Keep in each heart this cheering thought,
We pray for you both day and night.
Louisville, Ky.

THE VOLUNTEER'S WIFE TO HER HUSBAND

DON'T stop a moment to think, John,

Your country calls

then go;

Don't think of me or the children, John,

I'll care for them, you know.

Leave the corn upon the stalks, John,

Potatoes on the hill,

TO HER HUSBAND.

And the pumpkins on the vines, John -
I'll gather them with a will.

But take your gun and go, John,

Take your gun and go,

For Ruth can drive the oxen, John,

And I can use the hoe.

I've heard my grandsire tell, John,
(He fought at Bunker Hill,)

How he counted all his life and wealth
His country's offering still.

Shall we shame the brave old blood, John,
That flowed on Monmouth Plain ?
No! take your gun and go, John,
If you ne'er return again.
Then take your gun and go, etc.

Our army's short of blankets, John,
Then take this heavy pair;

I spun and wove them when a girl,

And worked them with great care.
There's a rose in every corner, John,
And there's my name, you see;
On the cold ground they'll warmer feel
That they were made by me.

Then take your gun and go, etc.

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