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Verses & Songs

Background Music:
"old oaken bucket"


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Verses & Songs           The Vidette             Articles of War


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Toast of Morgan's Men
by Capt. Patrick H. Thorpe,

Adjutant of the 2nd Kentucky Cavalry

Unclaimed by the land that bore us,
Lost in the land, we find
The brave have gone before us;
Cowards are left behind.
Then stand to your glasses, steady;
Here's a health to those we prize.
Here's a toast to the dead already,
And here's to the next who dies.
Georgia girls are handsome,
And Tennessee girls are sweet;
But a girl in Old Kentucky,
Is the one I want to meet!
Poem about Morgan and His Raiders
Recited by schoolchildren on both sides

The Yankee rhyme was: 

I’m sent to warn the neighbors, he’s only a mile behind,
He’s sweeping up the horses, every horse that he can find.
Morgan, Morgan the Raider and Morgan’s terrible men,
With bowie knives and pistols, are galloping up the glen.
Southern children had a different perspective:
I want to be a cavalryman, and with John Hunt Morgan ride,
A Colt revolver in my belt, a saber by my side.
I want a pair of epaulets to match my suit of gray,
The uniform my mother made and lettered C.S.A.
Kentucky Battle Song
Music and Lyrics by Charlie L. Ward

This song is background music on the Company Headquarters page on this site.

In the year of sixty-one, we left our native land,
   For we could not bend our spirits to a tyrant’s stern command.
And we rallied to our Buckner while our hearts were sad and sore,
   To offer our blood for freedom, as our father did before.
And we’ll march, march, march to the music of the drum,
We were driven forth in exile from our Old Kentucky Home.
When first the Southern flag whirled its folds upon the air,
   Its stars had hardly gathered till Kentucky’s sons were there.
And they swore a solemn oath as they sternly gathered ‘round,
   They would only live as freemen in the dark and bloody ground
With Buckner as our leader, and Morgan in the van,
We will plant the flag of freedom in our fair and happy land.
We will drive the tyrant’s minions to the Ohio’s rolling flood,
And will dye her waves in crimson with coward Yankee blood.
Then cheer ye Southern braves, ye soon shall see the day,
When Kentucky’s fairest daughters will cheer you on your way,
And then her proud old mothers will welcome one and all,
For "United we must stand, or divided we must fall".
How Are You, Telegraph?
Music by G. W. Work  -  Lyrics by W. Collins

This song is background music for the "1864 History" page on this site.  

  John came in excellent style, to be sure,
With banner and brand came he;
His clattering hoofs made a terrible roar,
And his cannon numbering three.
The Hoosiers were scared, so entered the race,
What a rowdyish set were they;
And the Buckeyes mounted to join in the chase,
 As Johnny galloped their way.
Ho! gather your flocks and sound the alarm
For the Partisan Rangers have come;
Bold knights of the road, they scour each farm
How are you, Telegraph?
The snow is in the clouds,
And night is gathering o'er us;
The winds are piping loud,
And fan the flames before us.
Then join the jovial band,
And tune the vocal organ;
And with a will we'll all join in,
Three cheers for John Hunt Morgan!
Hunters of Kentucky
by Samuel Woodworth

written for the heroes of the Battle of New Orleans, 1814.
This song is background music for the "Roster" page on this site.  

  We are a hardy freeborn race
Each man to fear a stranger,
What’er the game, we join in chase,
Despising toil and anger;
And if danger e’er annoys,
Remember what our trade is,
Just send for us Kentucky boys
And we’ll protect you Southern ladies.
And if a daring foe annoys,
What’er his strength and forces,
We’ll show him that Kentucky boys
Are "Alligator Horses".



Morgan's War Song
to the tune of "La Marseillaise"

Lyrics by Lt.-Col. Basil W. Duke, 2nd Kentucky Cavalry
printed in "The Vidette", August 1862  

Ye sons of the South, take your weapons in hand,
For the foot of the foe hath insulted your land.
Sound! Sound the loud alarm!
Arise! Arise and Arm!
Let the hand of each freeman grasp the sword to maintain
Those rights which, once lost, we can never regain,
Gather fast ‘neath our flag,
For ‘tis God’s own decree
That its folds shall still float
O’er a land that is free.  



You have lain too long in a stupor deep;
Rise like the giants refresh'd with sleep;
Sweep as the billows shorewood sweep,
and chase the foe to your boundaries
Grasp the good rifles wherewith your sires
Quench'd with red rain the hostile flies;
Fling back the hireling to him that hires
or trample him out like a loathsome worm
Firm as the rock when the floods are high
stand by your native sovereignty
and be "state and home" your rallying cry
Through the length and breadth of the wakening land.
The tyrant's rage, for your grievous wrong,
The "hour and the man" to you belong,
Let not the foe in your midst wax strong,
The time is over to stay and spare.
If needs must be both swift and sore;
Scatter the Northmen from stream to shore,
Until, the panic-stricken, they come no more
To see what our neutral soil is like.
But let no stain
Of brother's blood be on hand or blade-
Ev'n if his feet from the truth have stray'd:
"Hew hip and thigh" where hosts invade,
But draw not upon you the curse of Cain.
- Henry O. Wagner  
Louisville, Kentucky 1861
Courtesy of:  Museum of the Confederacy
Richmond, Virginia

Choose from the following hyperlinks to view other historical documents:

Broadsides             Proclamations             Resolutions
& Illustrations                & Reports                    & Ordinances   

Verses & Songs           The Vidette             Articles of War