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BLUE GRASS BALLADS |
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From mountain to ocean and over the seas,
The pride of a blessed land, And long may it wave in Columbia's breeze, The gift of a hero band.
So comes the old song back again, In dulcet burden and refrain:
" Oh! say, can you see by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming ?"
Where in the hot focal blaze of the fight
The war-god shook his sable plume, And where the red-breathed brazen cannon's blight. Deep dyed the field with crimson spume; In lulls of battle, twixt the roars of strife,
Like laugh of children in a gale, I've heard the music of the drum and fife, Playing amid the iron hail,
The game old song that comes again, In dulcet burden and refrain:
'< 'Way down South, in de land of cotton, 'Simmon seed an' sandy bottom, Lookaway, lookaway, lookaway,
Dixie's land." |
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