Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1.
Frank Moore, Ed.

95. Dixie.

by T . M. Cooley.¹

Away down South, where grows the cotton,
     ‘Seventy-six seems quite forgotten;
Far away, far away, far away, Dixie land.
     And men with rebel shout and thunder,
Tear our good old flag asunder,
     Far away, far away, far away, Dixie land.
Then we're bound for the land of Dixie!
     Hurrah! hurrah!
In Dixie land we'll take our stand,
     And plant our flag in Dixie!
Away, away, away down South in Dixie!
     Away, away, away down South in Dixie!

That flag — the foemen quailed before it,
     When our patriot fathers bore it,
Far away, &c.
     And battle-fields are shrined in story,
Where its folds were bathed in glory,
     Far away, &c.

And now, when traitor hands assail it,
     Stanch defenders ne'er shall fail it;--
Far away, &c.
     Nor from its glorious constellation,
Stars be plucked by pirate nation;--
     Far away, &c.

Undimmed shall float that starry banner,
     Over Charleston and Savannah,
Far away, &c.
     And Bunker Hill and Pensacola
Own alike its mission holy;--
     Far away, &c.

Then sound the march! We pledge devotion
     In our blood on land or ocean,
Far away, &c.
     Till every traitor in the nation
Gains a Haman's elevation,
     Far away, &c.

Yes, sound the march! Our Northern freemen
     Turn not back for man or demon,
Far away, far away, far away, Dixie land.
     Until once more our banner glorious
Waves o'er Dixie land victorious,
     Far away, far away, far away, Dixie land.

[74] Then we'll plant our flag in Dixie!
     Hurrah! hurrah!
Whoever hauls the old flag down,
     We'll shoot him down in Dixie!
Away, away, away down South in Dixie!
     Away, away, away down South in Dixie!