Dedication
To him who rose from zero,
The people in a mass will shout,
Hurrah, behold the hero!
(Fires his gun by accident.)
What’s that? oh dear! a boiler’s burst,
A gaspipe has exploded,
Maybe the Yankees are hard by
With muskets ready loaded.
On, gallant soldiers, beat’em back,
I ’ll join you in the frolic,
But I ‘ve a chill from head to foot,
And symptoms of the colic.
The spirit of the Southern women is well known to have been as vigorous and determined as that of their brothers, and the sacrifices which they were compelled to make were much more severe and general than at the North. They had been dependent upon the North and foreign countries for clothing and the luxuries of the household, and when these sources of supply were cut off by the war and the blockade, they had to make and sew their own homespun dresses, and forego all the delights of fashion and adornment. The sacrifices and devotion of the daughters of the South were sung in turgid rhetoric, like the threats and appeals of the men, but here is a genuine voice, evidently a woman’s own, which speaks for her sisters in their homelier trials, as well as in their deeper emotions:—