Breathe for air the roaring flame,
Horrors of that hell foretasted,
Who shall ever dare to name!

Borne by' those who, stiff and mangled,
Paid, upon that bloody field,
Direful, cringing, awe-struck homage
To the sword our heroes yield;
And who felt, by fiery trial,
That the men who will be free.
Though in conflict baffled often,
Ever will unconquered be!

Learned, though long unchecked they spoil us,
Dealing desolation round,
Marking, with the tracks of ruin,
Many a rood of Southern ground;
Yet, whatever course they follow,
_Somewhere_ in their pathway flows,
Dark and deep, a Chickamauga,
_Stream of death_ to vandal foes!

They have found it darkly flowing
By Manassas' famous plain,
And by rushing Shenandoah
Met the tide of woe again;
Chickahominy, immortal,
By the long, ensanguined fight,
Rappahannock, glorious river,
Twice renowned for matchless fight.