Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1862-08-21
:. From the Richmond Epouirer.

From the Richmond Eponirer
The GuersiAa's Song.
MAURICE DE BELL
AIR-BEsNY HAvENs On!
From the breast of old Virginia wild cry forth
anna the Iu and fearful wrongs of Wand ais of the North
thrs whefe er Ger mcuat and moor The Southern
and wakes the vengeance that declares No quarter 10 The
f6s." 9 "'
No quarter to the foe
No quarter to the foe
1t wskes the vengeance that declares No quartr 10 the
foe
1t plantiye peas from infant Daues where, through tn
Oar little children crouch beneath the cursed tyrants
hand;
And by the tears of innocence that there sadly ow
Sha southern slres strike swift al show No quarter TO the
foe!
That culver with vain prayers before the brutal mnions
And BY the insults cravens heap on heads as white as
They summon warrior give No quarter to the foe
And more pleads than groans ofage infants waing
The pain that heaves in woans breast and tires her
As shameless ruans the wrath that sets her cheek
And makes indignant manhood swear No quarter to the
Joe!
We hear Your cries. oh parents children, sisters cherish
And for your eager court the hot and bloody
And in it, red swords fash the thought of all your
Shall and hearts to grant No quarter TO
the foe!
By every base indgnity, by every broken hope;
By the brutal boats OF Butler by the fendsh threats of
Pope;
By all the wrongs dear bear by ali the pangs
know,
We just revenge shall show No quarter 10 the
foe!
Hurrah the shout of triumph swels We're gaining back
Oh God of Vengeance, let Thy might Thy justice now
be known!
Make Thine instruments wrath to ruthless ends to
The retrbution that DEGREES " No quarter to the oe!
No quarter to the foe!
No quarter to the foe
Thy retributon shall decree No quarter TO they =!
lit may add something the interest with which the fol-
lowing stirring ioes will be read to know that they
composed within the walls of Yankee Bastie. They
reach us in manuscript through the courtesy of lately
turned prisoner. l-Rtchmond Wing.
The GuerriIIas.
Awake and to horse my brothers,
For the dawn is glimmeriDg gray,
And bark in the cracking brushwood,
There are feet that tread this way!
Who cometh?" GA friend - "Wbat tdings p,
''Oh God 1 sicken to tell
" For the earth seems earth no longer,
" And Its sights are sights OF hell.
"There's rapine, and fire and slaughter
~ From the mountain down to the shore;
There's blood on the trampled harvest,
" And blood on the homestead floor
'From the far off conquered cities
Comes the voice of sti1ed wall,
And the shrieks and means of the hOuseless
hing out, like drge, on the gale!
''Ive seeu from the smoking village,
" Our mothers and daughters fly
i've seen, where the little children
Sank down in the burrows, to die
On the banks of the battle stained river
IS stood, as the moonlight shone,
" And it gared on the face of my brother,
" AS the sad wave swept him on
Where my home was glad, are ashes,
"And horror and shame had been there;
For found on the fallen Intel
" This tress Of my wite's torn hair
They are turning the slave upon u.s.
g. And, with more than the fend's worst art,
" Have uncovered the fires of the savage
" That slept in his untaught heat!
The ties to our hearts that bound him,
They have rent with curses, away,
Ard maddened him, with their madness,
To be almost as brutal as they.
With halter, and TORCH and Bible
land hymns, to sound the drum,
They preach the Gospel of murder,
And pray for Lust's kingdom to come!
To saddle! To sadie my brothers!
" Look up to the rising sun,
Whether deeds like these shall be done!
-" Wherever the Vandal cometh,
s. Press home to his heart with your steel,
sc And where r at his bosom ye cannot
I" Like the serpent, go strike at his heel!
Through thicket and wood go hunt him
Creep up to his camp fireside,
" And let ten of his cOrpses blacken,
"Where one of our brothers hath died
g In his faintng footsore marches
IS In his flight from the stricken fray
" In the snare of the lonely ambush.
The debts that owe him pay
50 In Gods hand, alone, is vengeance;
s. But he strikes with the hands of men
{" And his blight would wither our manhood,
8 If smote not the smiter again
BY the graves, where fathers slumber,
S. By the shrnes, where our mothers prayed,
l. "By our homes, and hopes, and freedom,
Let every man swear, on his blade.
" That he will not sheathe stay it,
"Till from point to heft it glow
81 With the flush of Almighty justice,
9 In the blood of the felon foe !"
They swore and the answering sunlight
Leapt red from their lifted swords,
And the hate in their hearts made echo
To the wrath in their burning words
There's weeping in all New England,
And by Schuykill's bank kDe
And the widows here, and the orphans,
How the oath was kept can tell.
More Eutcheries.
Everywhere from all directions where the Yankees hav
possession of Southern territory hear of the hangn
shooting of citizens and soldiers by the daboic
enemy. The last batch of horrors that which ooWe
the death of that brutal and bloody tyrant McCook VIII
has been happily to his last reckoning by the hands
patriotic guerilla. The butcheres of Southern citizen
follow lust what might be expected fro