y,
Open the gates, out here's Old Shady
A coming, coming, hail, mighty day.--CHORUS.

Good-bye, Massa Jeff; good-bye, Miss'r Stephens,
'Scuse dis nigger for takin' his leavens;
'Spect pretty soon you'll hear Uncle Abram's
Coming, coming, hail, mighty day.--CHORUS.

Good-bye, hard work, wid neber any pay,
I's gwine up North where de good folks say
Dat white wheat bread an' a dollar a day
Are a coming, coming, hail, mighty day.--CHORUS.

Oh! I've got a wife, and I've got a baby,
Living up yonder in upper Canaday;
Won't dey laugh when dey see Old Shady
Coming, coming, hail, mighty day.--CHORUS.

[Illustration: SEVENTH CORPS.]

COLUMBIA, THE GEM OF THE OCEAN,

OR

RED, WHITE, AND BLUE.

(Used by permission of S. Brainard's Sons.)

KEY OF G.

[Illustration: MAJ. GEN'L JAMES B. M'PHERSON.]

[Illustration: SEVENTEENTH CORPS.]

Oh! Columbia, the gem of the ocean,
The home of the brave and the free,
The shrine of each patriot's devotion,
The world offers homage to thee.
Thy mandates make heroes assemble,
When Liberty's form stands in view;
Thy banners make tyranny tremble
When borne by the Red, White, and Blue.

CHORUS.

When borne by the Red, White, and Blue,
When borne by the Red, White, and Blue,
Thy banners make tyranny tremble,
When borne by the Red, White, and Blue.

When war waged its wide desolation,
And threatened the land to deform,
The ark then of Freedom's foundation,
Columbia, rode safe through the storm,
With her garlands of vict'ry around her,
When so proudly she bore her brave crew,
With her flag proudly floating before her,
The boast of the Red, White, and Blue.--CHORUS.

That banner, that banner bring hither,
Tho' rebels and traitors look grim;
May the wreaths it has won never wither,
Nor the stars of its glory grow dim!
May the service united ne'er sever,
But they to their colors prove true!
The Army and Navy forever,
Three cheers for the Red, White, and Blue.--CHORUS.

THE ARMY BEAN.

Air--"SWEET BYE AND BYE."

[Illustration: ELEVENTH CORPS.]

There's a spot that the soldiers all love,
The mess-tent is the place that we mean,
And the dish that we like to see there
Is the old-fashioned, white Army bean.

CHORUS.

'Tis the bean that we mean,
And we'll eat as we ne'er ate before
The Army bean, nice and clean;
We will stick to our beans evermore.

Now, the bean in its primitive state
Is a plant we hav