| Lyrics: | Stonewall Jackson's Way
(J. W. Palmer)
Come, stack arms, men,
pile on the rails
Stir up the campfire bright;
No matter if the canteen fails,
We'll
make a roaring night
Here Shenandoah brawls along
The 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,
"Hear us, Almighty God! *
Lay bare Thine
arm, stretch forth Thy rod,
Amen!" That's Stonewall Jackson'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 dawn!"
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,
"Bayonets and grape!" Hear Stonewall roar;
"Charge, Stuart! Pay off Ashby's
score!"
Is 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
* original reads "In forma
pauperis to God"
from Songs of the Civil War, Silber
@America @Confederate @Civil
@war @army
filename[ STNWALLJ
play.exe STNWALLJ
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