And swore a fearful oath to God, those men of iron might,
That in the end the wrong should die, and up should go the right.
The King sent over hireling hosts, Briton, Hessian, Scot,
And swore in turn those Western men when captured should be shot,
While Chatham spoke with earnest tongue against the hireling throng,
And mournfully saw the Right go down, and place give to the Wrong.
But God was on the righteous side, and Gideon's sword was out,
With clash of steel, and rattling drum, and freemen's thunder-shout;
And crimson torrents drenched the land through that long, stormy fight:
But in the end, hurrah I the Wrong was beaten by the Right!
And when again the foeman came from out the Northern Sea,
To desolate our smiling land, and subjugate the free,
Our fathers rushed to drive them back with rifles keen and long,
And swore a mighty oath, the Right should subjugate the Wrong.
And while the world was looking on, the strife uncertain grew,
But soon aloft rose up our stars amid a field of blue.
For Jackson fought on red Chalmette, and won the glorious fight,
And then the Wrong went down, hurrah I and triumph crowned the Right!
The day has come again, when men who love the beauteous South,
To speak, if needs be, for the Right, though by the cannon's mouth;
For foes accursed of God and man, with lying speech and song,
Would bind, imprison, hang the Right, and deify the Wrong.
But canting knave of pen and sword, nor sanctimonious fool,
Shall never win this Southern land to cripple, bind, and rule;
We'll muster on each bloody'plain thick as the stars of night,
And through the help of God, the Wrong shall perish by the Right.