C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
John Williamson Palmer (1825–1906)
Stonewall Jackson’s Way
C
Stir up the camp-fire bright;
No growling if the canteen fails,
We’ll make a roaring night.
Here Shenandoah brawls along,
There burly Blue Ridge echoes strong,
To swell the brigade’s rousing song
Of “Stonewall Jackson’s way.”
Cocked o’er his eye askew;
The shrewd, dry smile; the speech so pat,
So calm, so blunt, so true.
The “Blue-Light Elder” knows ’em well:
Says he, “That’s Banks—he’s fond of shell;
Lord save his soul! we’ll give him—” Well!
That’s “Stonewall Jackson’s way.”
Old Blue Light’s goin’ to pray.
Strangle the fool that dares to scoff!
Attention! it’s his way.
Appealing from his native sod,
In forma pauperis to God:—
“Lay bare thine arm; stretch forth thy rod!
Amen!” That’s “Stonewall Jackson’s way.”
Steady! the whole brigade!
Hill’s at the ford, cut off; we’ll win
His way out, ball and blade!
What matter if our shoes are worn?
What matter if our feet are torn?
“Quick step! we’re with him before morn!”
That’s “Stonewall Jackson’s way.”
Of morning, and, by George!
Here’s Longstreet, struggling in the lists,
Hemmed in an ugly gorge;
Pope and his Dutchman, whipped before.
“Bay’nets and grape!” hear Stonewall roar;
“Charge, Stuart! Pay off Ashby’s score!”
In “Stonewall Jackson’s way.”
For news of Stonewall’s band!
Ah, widow, read with eyes that burn,
That ring upon thy hand!
Ah, wife, sew on, pray on, hope on!
Thy life shall not be all forlorn:
The foe had better ne’er been born
That gets in “Stonewall’s way.”