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STONEWALL JACKSON'S
WAY
by:
John Williamson Palmer
(1825-1906)
COME, stack arms,
men! Pile on the rails,
Stir up the
camp-fire bright;
No matter if the
canteen fails,
We'll make a roaring
night.
Here Shenandoah
brawls along,
There burly
Blue
Ridge echoes
strong,
To swell the
brigade's rousing song
Of "Stonewall
Jackson's way."
We see him now, --
the old slouched hat
Cocked o'er his eye
askew;
The shrewd, dry
smile, the speech so pat,
So calm, so blunt,
so true.
The "Blue-Light
Elder" knows 'em well;
Says he, "That's
Banks, -- he's fond of shell;
Lord save his soul!
we'll give him ---;" well,
That's "Stonewall
Jackson's way."
Silence! ground
arms! kneel all! caps off!
Old "Blue Light's"
going to pray.
Strangle the fool
that dares to scoff!
Attention! it's his
way.
Appealing from his
native sod,
In forma pauperis to
God,
"Lay bare Thine arm;
stretch forth Thy rod!
Amen!" That's
"Stonewall's way."
He's in the saddle
now. Fall in!
Steady! the whole
brigade!
Hill's at the ford
cut off; we'll win
His way out, ball
and blade!
What matter if our
shoes are worn?
What matter if our
feet are torn?
"Quick-step! we're
with him before morn!"
That's "Stonewall
Jackson's way."
The sun's bright
lances rout the mists
Of morning, and, by
George!
Here's Longstreet
struggling in the lists,
Hemmed in an ugly
gorge.
Pope and his
Yankees, whipped before,
"Bay'nets and
grape!" hear Stonewall roar;
"Charge, Stuart! Pay
off Ashby's score!"
In "Stonewall
Jackson's way."
Ah! Maiden, wait and
watch and yearn
For news of
Stonewall's band!
Ah! Widow, read,
with eyes that burn,
That ring upon thy
hand.
Ah! Wife, sew on,
pray on, hope on;
Thy life shall not
be all forlorn;
The foe had better
ne'er been born
That gets in
"Stonewall's way."
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"Stonewall
Jackson's Way" is reprinted from Historic
Poems and Ballads. Ed. Rupert
S.
Holland.
Philadelphia
:
George W. Jacobs & Co.,
1912.
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