The National tribune., 1883-08-09
THE WASHINGTON THURSDAY

And next twas at the Wilderness
And in the month~of May,
Those heroes formed In battle-line,
All ready for the fray.
I'm sure they did their duty there,
Though shot and shell flew round
And many of Pats comrades there
Lay bleeding on the ground.
Again ut Spottsylvania
Where the action ii grew hot
The shell flew round quite carelessly,
Along with solid shot.
1t was at the 147th
The rebels they did peg,
And they never stopped their handy work
Till they shot off Murphy's leg.
And when this hero fell and lay
A-bleedng in despair,
Two willing comrades came along
10 bear him to the rear.
"Begonel" cried Pat you towards, join
Your comrades-do not lag,
But, shouldering your muskets, now,
Go back and save the flag
"And keep that emblem high aloft,
OH keep it still on high,
Though every one that wears the blue
Upon the field should dieI ~
This hero's height was five feet seven
His complexion it was fair
Two years mustache tried to raise,
But could not raise a hair.
Now to conclude and finish, all
mean to bid adieu-
bid farewell to all the boys
Who wore the Yankee blue
Much of the poetry of the war had the suf-
ferings of our veterans in rebel prisons for its
theme, and the Wandering Poet of New
Hampshire"-a famous character among the
priSonerS-must alone have composed dozen
or more songs of this character. One of the
best known is the following, of which there are
many versions
Dixfe's Sunny Land.
Come friends and fellow soldiers brave come listen
tony song
About the rebel prisons and our sojourn there so
long;
Our wretched state and bardships great no one can
understand
But those who did endure our fate in Dixie's sun
ny land
When captured by the chivalry, they stripped us
to the skin,
But failed to give US back again the value of 8
pin,
Except some dirty rags of gray discarded by their
band;
Twas thus commenced our prison life in Dixie's
sunny land.
With host of guards surrounding us, each with
We were stationed in an open plain, exposed to
rain and sun,
No tent tree to shelter us, we lay upon the sand
Thus, side by side great numbers died in Dixie's
sunny land.
This daily bill of fare in that seeesh saloon
No sugar. tea coffee there at morning. night or
noon;
But pint of meal, ground cob and all, was served
And for the want of fire we ate it raw in Dixie's
sunny land.
We were by these poor rations soon reduced to
skin and bone,
A lingering starvation worse than death you can
There hundreds lay both night and day. by far too
weak to stand,
Till death released their sufferings in Dixies sunny
land.
We poor survivors oft were tried by many threat
and bribe
To desert our glorious Union cause and join the
rebel tribe;
Though fain were we to leave the place, we let
them understand
We had rather die than thus disgrace flag in
Dixle's land.
and months untold,
Until THAI happy time arrived when we Were all
paroled;
We landed at Annapolis, a Notwithstanding band
But glad to be alive and free from Dixies sunny
land.
How like dream those days now seem, in retro
spective view,
As we regain wasted strength. all dressed in
The debt we owe our bitter foe will not have long
20 stand,
i
sunny land.
The following was composed by Sergeant T.
j. Hyatt while prisoner at Andersonville:
viii Ye Leave Us Here to Die.
When our country called for men, we came from
forge and store and mill,
From workshop, farm and factory, tho broken
ranks to fill;
We left our dear and happy homes, and those we
To vanq',ish all the Unions foes. or fall where
others fell!
In prison now lalguish. and 1t is our constant
oh. vel who. yet can save us, win ye leave US
here to die?
The voice of sla.,ter tells you that our hearts were
faint with fear,
That all nearly All of were captured in the
rear;
The scars upon our bodies, from musket-ball or
shell,
The missing legs and shattered arms truer tale
can tell
We tried to do our duty in the sight of God on
high,
Oh yel who yet carrsave u.s. will ye leave us here
do die?
There hearts with hope still beating in our
pleasant Northern homes.
Waiting, watching for the footsteps that may
never, never come;
In Southern prisons lying, meager. tattered, pale
and gaunt,
Growing weaker, weaker daily, from pinching
cold and want,
less captive lie,
Oh vel who yet save US, will ye leave us here
to die?
From out our prison gateway there's q graveyard
~ hand,
Where lie some thirteen thousand beneath the
Georgia sgnd;
Scores on scores are laid beside them as day sue
ceeds to day,
And thss it ever will be till they all shall pass
away;
And the las; can say when dying, with upturned,
gazing eye:
Both love and faith are dead at home; they've
left Us here to die
Here is another which also possessed a pa
thetic interest for Union prisoners:
The Andersonville Post-0fice.
No blanket round his wasted form,
Under the rainy sky he slept:
While, pointing his envenomed shafts
Around him, Death the archer erept.
He dreamed of hunger, and held out
His hand to clutch the bread
A white-robed angel with torch
Among the living and the dead
Seemed bearing, smiling as he went.
The vision walked him, and he spied
The post-boy, followed by crowd
Of iimished prisoners, who cried
For letters-letters from their friends
Crawling upon his hands and knees,
He hears his own name called, and lol
A letter from hi, wife he sees;
Gaspng for breath. he shrelSed aloud,
And, lost in natures blind eclipse
Faltering amid the supphant crowd,
Caught it and pressed it to his lips.
A guard who followed red and wroth
And fiourishing a rusty brand
Reviled him with taunting oath,