coffer! Straight through Tennessee The flag is flapping free-- Ay, nothing shorter!
But first, with shot and shell, The road was cleared right well-- Ye made each muzzle tell, Brave Foote and Porter I! Shear the old Stripes and Stars Short, for the bloody bars? No, not an atom! How, 'neath yon cannon-smoke, Volley and charge and stroke, Roar around Roanoke! Burnside is at 'em! O brave lads of the West! Joy to each valiant breast! Three days of steady fight-- Three shades of stormy night-- Donelson tumbles. Surrender out of hand! “Unchivalrous demand!” (So Buckner grumbles.) March in, stout Grant and Smith, (Ah!
souls of pluck and pith,) Haul down, for the Old Flag, That black and bloody.rag-- Twelve thousand in a bag! True hearts are overjoyed-- But half as many scamper, (Ah!
there's the only damper,) Through the very worst of weathers, After old Fuss-and-Feathers And foul Barabbas-Floyd. Was't funk that made them flee? Nay, they're as bold as we-- 'Twas their bad cause, d'ye see,