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作曲 : Eugene T. Johnson |
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Oh have you heard the glorious news, is the cry from every mouth |
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Charleston is taken, and the rebels put to rout; |
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And Beauregard the chivalrous, he ran to save his bacon— |
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When he saw General Sherman’s Yanks, and “Charleston is taken!” |
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With a whack, rowdy-dow |
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A hunky boy is General Sherman |
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Whack, rowdy-dow |
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Invincible is he! |
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This South Carolina chivalry, they once did loudly boast |
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That the footsteps of a Union man, should ne’er pollute their coast |
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They’d fight the Yankees two to one, who only fought for booty |
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But when the mudsills came along it was “Legs, do your duty!” |
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With a whack, rowdy-dow |
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Babylon is fallen |
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Whack, rowdy-dow |
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The end is drawing near! |
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And from the “Sacred City,” this valiant warlike throng; |
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Skedaddled in confusion, although thirty thousand strong— |
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Without a shot, without a blow, or least sign of resistance |
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And leaving their poor friends behind, with the Yankees for assistance! |
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With a whack, rowdy-dow |
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How are you, Southern chivalry? |
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Whack, rowdy-dow |
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Your race is nearly run! |
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And again o’er Sumter’s battered walls, the Stars and Stripes do fly |
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While the chivalry of Sixty-one in the last ditch does lie;— |
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With Sherman, Grant and Porter too, to lead our men to glory |
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We’ll squash poor Jeff’s confederacy, and then get hunkydory! |
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With a whack, rowdy-dow |
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How are you, neutral Johnny Bull? |
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Whack, rowdy-dow |
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We’ll settle next with you! |
