Wlliam Gilmore Simms
Southward Ho! A Spell of Sunshine >> Chapter XIII / The Oration of the Green-Spectacled Alabamian >> Page 256

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Page 256

Novel (Romance) | Redfield | 1854
Transcription 2 56 SOUTHWARD HO

much had the affair in. their own hands : and our brethren north
of the Hudson were not in the best of humors were somewhat
riled, indeed, by the character of the oration and the toasts that
followed. They attempted to reply, in the volunteer toasts
which they offered, quoting Daniel Webster and others very
freely, but without much visible effect. For once, the majority
was against them. Our space will not suffice to report their
toasts, the answers, or the discussions which ensued; but it is
doing them justice only to give one of the several volunteer
songs which were sung in honor of the Union. The secession-
ists had a poet on board, but his muse was suffering from sea-
sickness or some other malady. She was certainly reluctant
and made no sign. The lay that I give might have issued from
the mint of Joel Barlow for aught I know : �
UNION AND LIBERTY. [Sung by a tall person in nankin pantaloons.]
Oh, dear was the hour when Liberty rose,
And gallant the freemen who came at her call; Sublime was the vengeance she took on her foes,
And mighty the blow which released her from thrall :
Down from its realm of blue,
Proudly our Eagle flew,
Perched on our banner and guided us on ;
While from afar they came,
Brave souls with noble aim,
Where at the price of blood, freedom was wooed and won.
Ours was no trophy, the conquest of power, Heedless if triumph were sanctioned by right; We took not up arms in infuriate hour,
Nor thirsting for spoil hurried forth to the fight: Led by the noblest cause,
Fighting for rights and laws,
Panting for freedom our fathers went forth; Nor for themselves alone,
Struck they the tyrant down,
They fought and they bled for the nations of earth.
And dear be the freedom they won for our nation,
And firm be the Union that freedom secures;
Let no parricide hand seek to pluck from its station,
The flag that streams forth in its pride from our shores ; May no son of our soil,
In inglorious toil,