THE BONNIE BLUE FLAG
(There) are a band of brothers and native to
the
soil,
Fighting for the property we gained by
honest toil;
And when our rights were threatened, the
cry rose, near and far:
Hurrah! for the Bonnie Blue Flag that
bears
a single star.
CHORUS.
Hurrah! Hurrah! for Southern rights;
hurrah!
Hurrah! for the Bonnie Blue Flag that
bears
a single star!
(First?) gallant South Carolina so nobly made
the stand:
Then came Alabama, who took her by the
hand;
Next quickly Mississippi, Georgia and Florida,
All raised on high the Bonnie Blue Flag
that bears a single star.
And here's to brave Virginia; the Old Dominion
State;
That with the young Confed'racy at length
has linked her fate;
Impelled by her example, now other States
prepare
To hoist on high the bonnie Blue Flag that
bears a single star.
Then here's to our Confed'racy, for strong
we are and brave!
Like patriots of old, we'll fight our heritage
to save,
And rather than submit to shame to die we
would prefer;
So cheer for the Bonnie Blue Flag that
bears a single star.
Author Unknown
There were two words I couldn't read.......my
best guesses as to what they
were are contained in parentheses.
From the childhood poetry collection of my grandmother, Minnie May ALTSMAN Barrett (1891-1986), daughter of a Confederate "drummer boy" (James Madison ALTSMAN, 1846-1915) who served from Pemiscot Co., MO.
JUST BEFORE THE BATTLE, MOTHER
Just before the battle, mother,
I am thinking most of you;
While upon the field we're watching,
With the enemies in view,
Comrades brave around me lying,
Filled with thoughts of
home and God,
For well they know that on the morrow
Some will sleep beneath
the sod.
Chorus---
Farewell, mother! You may never
Press me to your heart
again;
But, oh! You'll not forget me, mother,
If I'm numbered with the
slain.
Oh, I long to see you, mother,
And the loving ones at
home;
But I'll never leave our banner
Till in honor I can come.
Tell the traitors around about you
That their cruel words
we know
In every battle kill our soldiers
By the help they give the
foe.
Hark! I hear the bugle sounding,
Tis the signal for the
fight.
Now, may God protect us, mother,
As he ever does the right;
Hear the battle cry of freedom;
How it swells upon the
air.
Oh, yes, we'll rally round the standard,
Or we'll perish nobly there.
Author Unknown
From the childhood poetry collection of my
grandmother, Minnie May ALTSMAN
Barrett (1891-1986), daughter of a Confederate
"drummer boy" (James Madison
ALTSMAN, 1846-1915) who served from Pemiscot
Co., MO.
Tracey Baldwin