A Song of Marion’s Men.

In the ranks of Marion’s band
Through morass and wooded land
Over beach of yellow sand
Mountain, plain and valley
A southern maid in all her pride
Marched gayly at her lover’s side
In such a disguise
That e’en his eyes
Did not discover Sally
When returned from midnight tramp
Through the forest dark and damp
On his straw couch in the camp
In his dreams he’d dally
With that devoted gentle fair
Whose large black eyes and flowing hair
So near him seem
That in his dream
He breathes his love for Sally.
Oh! what joy that maiden knew
When she found her lover true
Sudenly the trumpet blew
Marion’s men to rally
To ward the death-spear from his side
Battling by broad Santee she died
Where sings the surge
A ceaseless dirge
Near the stone grave of Sally.