Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 3. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for Nathaniel Lyon or search for Nathaniel Lyon in all documents.

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3. half-mast: in memory of Gen. Nathaniel Lyon, killed at the battle of Wilson's Creek, August 16, 1861. by F. G. C. Unfurl our flag half-mast to-day, In sorrow, 'mid the clang of war; Each crimson stripe is turned to gray, To black each azure star. The drooping breeze scarce stirs a fold; The birds complain with fettered breath; The clouds hang sullenly and cold, For lo! a hero's death. From far Missouri's prairie plain The echo of his battle-cry Sounds and recedes, and sounds again, His prairie plain The echo of his battle-cry Sounds and recedes, and sounds again, His life-earned victory. Oh, Lyon! on thy martial bier The tears of grateful millions flow, And Treason well may shrink, and fear Its fated overthrow. For wheresoe'er thy comrades stand To face the traitors, as of yore, Thy prescient spirit shall command And lead the charge once more. Then fling our flag mast-high to-day, Triumphant 'mid the clang of war; And death to him who shall betray One single stripe or star!
31. Lyon. Sing, bird, on green Missouri's plain, The saddest song of sorrow; Drop tears, 0 clouds, in gentlest rain Ye from the winds can borrow; Breath out, ye winds, your softest sigh, Weep, flowers, in dewy splendor, For him who knew well how to die, But never to surrender. Up rose serene the August sun, Upon that day of gloth of their despairing. They feared not death — men bless the field That patriot soldiers die on-- Fair Freedom's cause was sword and shield, And at their head was Lyon. Their leader's troubled soul looked forth From eyes of troubled brightness; Sad soul! the burden of the North Had pressed out all its lightness. He gazed upon of the land, And dyed his bosom redly! Serene he lay, while past him pressed The battle's furious billow, As calmly as a babe may rest Upon its mother's pillow. So Lyon died! and well may flowers His place of burial cover, For never had this land of ours A more devoted lover. Living, his country was his bride, His life he gave he
thirsty North, Be adamant in heart as firm, While you call your armies forth, “Strike home” for wives and children, God will smile upon the right, And a victory will crown you 'Neath the “Crimson and the White.” VI. You've excelled them now in battle, Ere the carnage has begun; They've been scattered in confusion-- Mark the “stampede of the Run;” With a loss of many thousands, (All hail to Southern might,) By a victory of honor 'Neath the “Crimson and the White.” VII. See, yonder hosts of Lyon, In the good old western State; Mark well McCullough's onset, And the tyrant general's fate! Then say not the “God of battles” Disregards the Freemen's right, For He, in mercy, smiles on all 'Neath the “Crimson and the White.” VIII. Then, arise! arise, ye Southrons, Let your cry be for the brave, And, oh! if perchance in battle You should meet a “soldier's grave;” Be content to die for freedom, 'Gainst the thraldom of the foe; With your “White and Crimson” banner F
ve told you about The doings in our happy land of Canaan. chorus — Hip! hip! hip! Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! Our colors are well worth sustaining; From them we'll never fly, But we'll conquer or we'll die, In defence of our happy land of Canaan. The greatest peril yet, By which our country's been beset, In this civil war which now is reigning; There's but one thing left to do, We must whip the rebel crew, And drive them from the happy land of Canaan. Way down in old Missouri, There's where General Lyon fell, And died where the bullets were a-raining; He left his gallant band, With brave Sigel in command, Now he's happy in a better land of Canaan. Col. Mulligan's brigade, They were never yet afraid, Fought at Lexington five days without complaining; Fed the rebels shell and shot, Till they out of water got, Then surrendered up their happy land of Canaan. There's the “Dutch Company,” Who are fighting for the free, When in battle every nerve they are straining; When it comes to run away, T<