r wearysome way,
And we strewed the wild hills of Resaca--
God bless those who fell on that day.
Then Kennesaw, dark in its glory,
Frowned down on the flag of the free;
But the East and the West bore our standard
As Sherman marched down to the sea.

Still onward we pressed till our banner
Swept out from Atlanta's grim walls,
And the blood of the patriot dampened
The soil where traitor's flag falls.
But we paused not to weep for the fallen
Who slept by each river and tree;
Yet we twined them wreaths of the laurel
As Sherman marched down to the sea.

Proud, proud was our army that morning
That stood by the cypress and pine
When Sherman said, "Boys, you are weary;
This day fair Savannah is thine,"
Then sang we a song for our chieftain
That echoed o'er river and lea,
And the stars on our banner shone brighter
When Sherman marched on to the sea.

MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA.

Used by permission of S. Brainard's Sons.

[Illustration: 2D CORPS.]

Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song,
Sing it with the spirit that will start the world along,--
Sing it as we used to sing it, fifty thousand strong,
While we were marching through Georgia.

CHORUS.

"Hurrah! hurrah! we bring the Jubilee!
Hurrah! hurrah! the flag that makes you free!"
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea
While we were marching through Georgia.

How the darkies shouted when they heard the joyful sound!
How the turkeys gobbled which our commissary found!
How the sweet potatoes even started from the ground,
While we were marching through Georgia!--CHORUS.

Yes, and there were Union men who wept with joyful tears
When they saw the honored flag they had not seen for years;
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers
While we were marching through Georgia.--CHORUS.

"Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never reach the coast!"
So the saucy rebel said, and 'twas a handsome boast;
Had they not forgotten, alas! to reckon with the host,
While we were marching through Georgia.--CHORUS.

So we made a thoroughfare for Freedom and her train,
Sixty miles in latitude,--three hundred to the main,
Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain,
While we were marching through Georgia.--CHORUS.

[Illustration]

A THOUSAND YEARS.

KEY OF C.

[Illustration: SOLID SHOT.]

Lift up your eyes, desponding freemen!
Fling to the winds your needless fear