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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
America: Vols. XXV–XXIX. 1876–79.

Southern States: Shenandoah, the Valley, Va.

Stonewall Jackson’s Way

By John Williamson Palmer (1825–1896)

COME, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails,

Stir up the camp-fire bright;

No matter if the canteen fails,

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 soul! 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 sod,

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 morn!”

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 in an ugly gorge.

Pope and his Yankees, whipped before;

“Bay’nets and grape!” near Stonewall roar;

“Charge, Stuart! Pay off Ashby’s score!”

Is “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, sew 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.”