The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1912-04-11

In the far-OH pleasant land?
l am dreaming, am dreaming,
And the lightning's lurid glare
Like a meteor in it's madness,
Rushes through the midnight air,
And l see the red-cross banner
In the rifted cloudless wave,
And I hear the battle shoutings,
Of the gallant and the brave.
am dreaming, am dreaming,
And the lannon's deadly roar
Rolls up the steep, blue mountain,
Along the other shore;
And l see lordly gentleman
Ride out to lead the way.
He is the knightliest gentleman
That ever wore the gray.
Down to the shock of battle,
Through fire, and smoke, and blood,
He rides him down right calamity,
To stem the ebbing flood;
Two glittering stars about his throat,
No sword he wears-l ween,
He is the comeGest gentleman
That ever have seen.
So calm, so stern, so debonair,
No plume upon his crest,
He goes the warpath CALAMITY,
No shield upon his breast;
He rides the good horse Traveller,
Right to the fore rides he
His sire was "Light- Harry"
And his name is Robert Lee.
And yonder in the tempest,
Down by the smoky plain,
One rides in afinor, FURNISHED bright,
And Burning spear amain. u
His brow is clothed in thunder, = 2
Hisright arm raised on high;
Mars-like he rides to battle,
AS he rode in days gone by.
am dreaming, am dreaming,
And the blushing rose of morn
Is shaking from her leaflets young,
Bright crystals on the storm;
The midnight is asunder,
Still the carnage revels high,
And still rides "Stonewall" Jackson,
AS he rode in days gone by.
Now, hark! the bucle's pealing!
See the flashing sabres shine,
Against the day-god of the east,
Along the charging line.
hear the merry clank of steel,
And laughter ringing far,
IT'S chestnut bearded Stuart,
Our Henry of Navarro
am dreaming, and there's weeping,
In yon grove upon the hill.
There noble form is hushed in death
A gallant heart is still;
On the banner of his legions
His star of glory syines;
IT'S Rhodes, the fair-haired chieftain,
Who charged at Seven Pines.
am dreaming, am dreaming,
And black plume waves on high,
So graceful, yet SO terrible,
Above flashing eye.
The mountains quake and tremble,
Still that warrior takes no heed,
IT'S Ashby rides the vale of death,
Upon his milk white steed.
And, oh, song of boyhood,
Is floating up the glen,
And happy voice of bygone years,
Is cheering on his men.
With cleaning eye he charges,
And soul for soldiers fate.
IT'S Ramseur, dashing Ramseur,
The pride of the Old North State.
Who comes with yisage strong and stern,
Upon his foaming bay?
A stout and hardy fighter,
cold Butcher" clears the way,
With sturdy cane of oak aloft,
He leads them up the glade,
TITS "Alleghany" Johnson,
With the old "Stonewall'' Brigade
And yonder, cheering on his braves,
Is Hall, Virginia's pride;
The handsome John Magruder
Is fighting at his side.
Bold Pegram holds the bridge to-day
With Garnett at the ford,
And see the gray-haired Armstead
With his hat upon his sword.
am dreaming, I am dreaming,
And my comrades Of the past
Are waiting in the valley
For the bugle's ownward blast;
John Pelham, Brown and Pegram,
Will Randolph, true and strong,
And the smiling, boyish Lattimer,
A beacon in that throng.
Awake, awake, thou dreamer!
The voices of the slain
Come Ger the still, deep water
In ripples bright with fame.
Awake, the spear is broken,
The blade hath turned to rust,
And the warriors red-cross banner,
Droops DER the warriors dust.