'll eat when I'm hungry
I'll drink when I am dry,
If the Yankees dont kill me
I'll live until I die,
If the Yankees dont kill me
And cause me to mourn,
I am a Rebel soldier
And far from my home.
Here's a good old cup of brandy
And a glass of nice wine,
You can drink to your true love
And I will drink to mine,
And you can drink to your true love
And I'll lament and mourn,
I am a Rebel soldier
And far from my home.
I'll build me a castle on the mountain
On some green mountain high,
Where I can see Polly
As she is passing by,
Where I can see Polly
And help her to mourn,
I am a Rebel soldier
And far from my home.
Verse 1
Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along
Sing it as we used to sing it, 50,000 strong[5]
While we were marching through Georgia.
Chorus
Hurrah! Hurrah! we bring the jubilee![6]
Hurrah! Hurrah! the flag that makes you free!
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea
While we were marching through Georgia.
Verse 2
How the darkeys shouted when they heard the joyful sound
How the turkeys gobbled which our commissary found
How the sweet potatoes even started from the ground
While we were marching through Georgia.
Verse 3
Yes and there were Union men who wept with joyful tears,
When they saw the honored flag they had not seen for years;
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers,
While we were marching through Georgia.
Verse 4
"Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never reach the coast!"
So the saucy rebels said and 'twas a handsome boast
Had they not forgot, alas! to reckon with the Host
While we were marching through Georgia.
Verse 5
So we made a thoroughfare for freedom and her train,
Sixty miles in latitude, three hundred to the main;
Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain
While we were marching through Georgia.
Федератская песнь. Мелодия осталась популярной, и ее играют в "Унесенных ветром".
Listen all ye that hold communion
With Southern Confederates who are bold,
And I will tell you of some men for the Union
Who in northern ranks were enrolled;
They came to Missouri in their glory
And thought at their might we’d be dismayed;
But they soon had a different story
When they met Kelly’s Irish Brigade.
CHORUS:
When they met with the Irish Brigade me boys
When they met with the Irish Brigade
Didn’t those cowardly Lincolnites tremble
When they met with the Irish Brigade.
They have called us rebels and traitors,
But themselves have thrown off that name of late.
They were called it by the English invaders
At home in the eve of ninety eight
The name to us is not a new one though,
Tis one that shall never degrade
Any true-hearted Irishmen
In the ranks of Kelly’s Irish Brigade.
CHORUS
Well they dare not call us invaders,
‘Tis but state rights and liberty we ask;
And Missouri, we will ever defend her,
No matter how hard may be the task.
Then let true Irishmen assemble,
Let the voice of Missouri be obeyed;
And the northern fanatics will tremble
When again they meet Kelly’s Irish Brigade.
The minstrel boy to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death ye will find him;
His father's sword he hath girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him;
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard,
"Tho' all the world betray thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"
The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain
Could not bring his proud soul under;
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
And said "No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and bravery!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free
They shall never sound in slavery!"
Ирландская федератская песнь. Написана знаменитым Джоном Муром. Американские ирландцы юзают ее до сих пор.
Say, darkies, hab you seen de massa, wid de muffstash on his face,
Go long de road some time dis mornin', like he gwine to leab de place?
He seen a smoke way up de ribber, whar de Linkum gunboats lay;
He took his hat, and lef' berry sudden, and I spec' he's run away!
CHORUS:
De massa run, ha, ha! De darkey stay, ho, ho!
It mus' be now de kingdom coming, an' de year ob Jubilo!
He six foot one way, two foot tudder, and he weigh tree hundred pound,
His coat so big, he couldn't pay the tailor, an' it won't go halfway round.
He drill so much dey call him Cap'n, an' he got so drefful tanned,
I spec' he try an' fool dem Yankees for to tink he's contraband.
CHORUS
De darkeys feel so lonesome libbing in de loghouse on de lawn,
Dey move dar tings into massa's parlor for to keep it while he's gone.
Dar's wine an' cider in de kitchen, an' de darkeys dey'll have some;
I s'pose dey'll all be cornfiscated when de Linkum sojers come.
CHORUS
De obserseer he make us trouble, an' he dribe us round a spell;
We lock him up in de smokehouse cellar, wid de key trown in de well.
De whip is lost, de han'cuff broken, but de massa'll hab his pay;
He's ole enough, big enough, ought to known better dan to went an' run away.
CHORUS
Редкая вещь федератская песня про... негров. Ну, чтобы окончательно не забыли, за что воюют...
Come, all ye sons of freedom, and join our Southern band,
We are going to fight the Yankees and drive them from our land.
Justice is our motto and providence our guide,
So jump into the wagon, and we'll all take a ride.
CHORUS:
Wait for the wagon! The dissolution wagon!
The South is the wagon, and we'll all take a ride.
Secession is our watchword, our rights we all demand;
To defend our homes and firesides, we pledge our hearts and hands;
Jeff Davis is our president, with Stephens by his side;
Brave Beauregard, our General, will join us in the ride.
CHORUS
Our wagon is the very best, the running gear is good;
Stuffed 'round the sides with cotton, and made of Southern wood.
Carolina is the driver, with Georgia by her side,
Virginia holds the flag up, and we'll all take a ride.
CHORUS
There are Tennessee and Texas also in the ring;
They wouldn't have a government where cotton wasn't king.
Alabama and Florida have long ago replied;
Mississippi and Louisiana are anxious for the ride.
CHORUS
Old Lincoln and his Congressmen with Seward by his side,
Put old Scott in the wagon just for to take a ride.
McDowell was the driver, to cross Bull Run he tried,
But there he left the wagon for Beauregard to ride.
CHORUS
Manassas was the battleground. the field was fair and wide;
They Yankees thought they'd whip us out, and on to Richmond ride;
But when they met our "Dixie" boys, their danger they espied;
They wheeled about for Washington, and didn't wait to ride.
CHORUS
The Tennessee boys are in the field, eager for the fray;
They can whip the Yankee boys three to one, they say;
And when they get in conflict with Davis by their side,
They'll pitch into the Yankee boys and then you'll see them slide.
CHORUS
Our cause is just and holy, our men are brave and true;
We'll whip the Lincoln cutthroats is all we have to do.
God bless our noble army; in Him we all confide;
So jump into the wagon and we'll all take a ride.
The fearful struggle's ended now and peace smiles on our land,
And though we've yielded we have proved ourselves a faithful band.
We fought them long, we fought them well, we fought them night and day,
And bravely struggled for our rights while wearing of the gray.
And now that we have ceased to fight and pledged our sacred word,
That we against the Union's might no more will draw the sword,
We feel despite the sneers of those who never smelt the fray,
That we've a manly, honest right to wearing of the gray.
Our cause is lost the more we fight 'gainst o'erwhelming power,
All wearied are our limbs and drenched with many a battle shower.
We feign we rest for want of strength in yielding up the day,
And lower the flag so proudly born while wearing of the gray.
Defeat is not dishonor, our honor not bereft,
We thank God that in our hearts this priceless boon was left.
And though we weep just for those braves who stood in proud array,
Beneath our flag and nobly died while wearing of the gray.
When in the ranks of war we stood and faced the deadly hail,
Our simple suits of gray composed our only coats of mail.
And on the awful hours that marked the bloody battle day,
In memories we'll still be seen wearing of the gray.
Oh! should we reach that glorious place where waits a sparklin' crown,
For everyone who for the right his soldier life lay down.
God grant to us the privilege upon that happy day,
Of claspin' hands with those who fell while wearing of the gray.
Вообще, как вы понимаете, практически все американские песни написали ирландцы. "Тот, кто носит зеленое" - старая ирландская "ребельская" о восстании 1798 года. Конфедератские "ребелы" переделали текст, и песня превратилась в "Того, кто носит серое". Ну а федералы не заморачивались - переписали текст по-своему, и получилась песня "Армия свободы" (см. предыдущую страницу).
In South Carolina the darkies go,
Sing song, Kitty, can't you ki' me, oh!
That's where the white folks plant the tow.
Sing song, Kitty, can't you ki' me, oh!
Cover the ground all over with smoke,
Sing song Kitty, can't you ki' me, oh!
And up the darkies' heads they poke.
Sing song, Kitty, can't you ki' me, oh!
Chorus:
Kemo, kimo! There! oh where?--
With my hi, my ho, and in come Sally, singing
Sometimes penny winkle, lingtum, nipcat,
Sing song, Kitty, can't you ki' me, oh!
[similarly:]
Milk in the dairy nine days old,
Frogs and the 'skeeters getting mighty bold,
They try to sleep, but it ain't no use,
Their legs hung out for the chickens to roost.
Chorus.
There was a frog lived in a pool,
Sure he was the biggest fool,
For he could dance, and he could sing,
And make the woods around him ring.
Chorus.
Из старой песни (выше) сделали военный марш (ниже). Федералы, блин...