Poem: A Rebel Camp Song: The Polynesian (1863)

A Rebel Camp Song
The Polynesian. Honolulu: 1863

[The following stanzas were found on the person of a rebel Sergeant of the "Stonewall Brigade," recently captured by our forces near Winchester, Virginia] -Exchange

"STONEWALL JACKSON'S WAY."

-

Come, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails-
  Stir up the camp-fire bright,
No matter if the canteen falls,
  We'll make a roaring night!
Here Shenandoah brawls along,
There burly Blue Ridge echoes strong,
To swell the Brigade's rousing song,
  Of "Stonewall Jackson's Way." 

We see him now-the old slouched hat
  Cocked o'er his eye askew-
The shrewd dry smile-the speech so pat,
  So calm, so blunt, so true.
The Blue-Light Elder knows 'em well;
Says he, "That's Banks-he's fond of shell,
Lord save his son! we'll give him" -well,
  That's Stonewall Jackson's way.

Silence! ground arms! kneel all! caps off!
  Old Blue-Light's going to pray-
Strangle the fool that dares to scoff!
  Attention! It's his way!
Appealing from his native god,
In forma pauperis to God-
"Lay bare Thine arm, stretch forth Thy rod,
  Amen!" That's Stonewall's way.

He's in the saddle now! Fall in!
  Steady! the whole brigade!
Hill's at the ford, cut off; we'll win
  His way out, ball and blade.
What matter if our shoes are worn?
What matter if our feet are torn?
"Quick-step! we're with him before dawn!"
  That's Stonewall Jackson's way.

The sun's bright lances rout the mists
  Of morning-and by George!
Here's Longstreet, struggling in the lists,
  Hemmed by an ugly gorge.
Pope and his Yankees, whipped before,
"Bayonets and grape!" hear Stonewall roar.
"Charge, Stewart! pay off Ashby's score!"
  That's Stonewall Jackson's way.

Ah! maiden, wait, and watch, and yearn,
  For news of Stonewall's band!
Ah! widow, read with eyes that burn
  That ring upon thy hand!
Ah! wife, weep on, pray on, hope on!
Thy life shall not be all forlorn!
The foe had better ne'er been born
  That gets in Stonewall's way.