Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 10.
Reverend J. William Jones, Ed.

[280]
     The victims still of hate,
Who have forever clung,
     With a love that will not die,
To the memories of our Past,
     Who are patient and who wait,
True and faithful to the last,--
     For the Easter morning sky,
When Wrong's rock shall roll away
     From the sepulchre of Right,
And the Right shall rise again
     In the brightness of a light,
That shall never fade away,
     Triumphantly and glorious
To teach once more to men,
     The Conquered are victorious.
The Conquered in the strife,
     Throa their children yet shall reign
By their patience and their peace;
     They shall fill the People's life,
From Right's ever virgin vein,
     With the purest blood that flows,
Made the purer by our woes,
     Without stain and without cease,
Till the children of our foes
     Shall be proud and glad to claim
And to write upon one scroll
     Every dear and deathless name
On our Southern muster-roll.

Ah! we rebels met defeat
     On the gory battle-field,
And we flung our muskets down,
     When our Bonnie Flag was furled;
But our right did but retreat
     With pure honor for her shield,
And with justice for her crown,
     From the forces of the world;--
(For against us thousands came,
     Money-bought from every clime,
But we stood against them all,
     For the honor of our name,
Till the fated day of time
     Came but to crown our Fall
With a fadeless wreath of Fame.)

Retreat into that shrine,
     Back of every Southern breast,
Your hearts, my friends, and mine,