Part 1 — AVERILL'S RAID.

Say, lads, have ye heard of bold Averill's raid? How we scoured hill and valley, dared dungeon and blade! How we made old Virginia's heart quake through and through, Where our sharp, sworded lightning cut sudden her view! Three cheers! Red battle had trampled her plains into mire; The homestead and harvest had vanished in fire; But far where the walls of the Blue Ridge arose, Were prize for our daring and grief for our foes. Three cheers! There was grain in the garners, fresh, plump to the sight; And mill-wheels to grind it all dainty and white; There were kine in the farmyards, and steeds in the stall, All ready, when down our live torrent should fall. Three cheers! And in the quaint hamlets that nestled more far, Were contrabands pining to know the north star; And home guards so loath to leave home and its joys, But who dreamed not they staid prize for Averill's boys. Three cheers! Oh, keen did we grind our good sabres, and scan Our carbines and pistols, girths, spurs, to a man! Then up and away did we dash with a shout, With cannon and caisson, away in and out. Three cheers! Away in the forest and out on the plain; The stormy night gathered, we never drew rein; The raw morning cut us, but onward, right on, Till again the chill landscape in twilight grew wan. Three cheers! Sleet stung us like arrows, winds rocked us like seas, And close all around crashed the pinnacle-trees; Red bolts flashed so near, the glare blinded our eyes, But onward, still on, for in front shone the prize. Three cheers! We climbed the steep paths where the spectre-like fir Moaned of death in the distance; we ceased not to spur! Death! what that to us, with our duty before! Then onward, still on our stern hoof-thunder bore. Three cheers! We dashed on the garners, their white turned to black; We dashed on the mills, smoky veils lined our track; We dashed on the hamlet, ha, ha! what a noise, What a stir, as upon them rushed Averill's boys! Three cheers! The contrabands came with wide grins and low bows, And old ragged slouches swung wide from their brows; But the home guards ran wildly—then blustered, when found Not made food for powder, but Union-ward bound. Three cheers! The kine turned to broils at our camp fires—the steeds, The true F. F. V.'s, fitted well to our needs; They pranced and they neighed, as if proud of the joys Of bearing, not home guards, but Averill's boys. Three cheers! We dashed on the rail-track, we ripped and we tore; We dashed on the depots, made bold with their store; Then away, swift away, for 'twas trifling with fire; We were far in the foe's depths, and free to his ire. Three cheers! Fierce Ewell and Early and Stuart and Hill Launched forth their fleet legions to capture and kill; But we mocked all pursuit, and eluded each toil, And drummed unopposed on their dear sacred soil. Three cheers! We swam icy torrents, climbed wild, icy roads Where alone wolf and woodman held savage abodes; We floundered down glary steeps, ravine, and wall, Either side, where, one slip, and a plunge settled all: Three cheers! The dark, mighty woods heaved like billows, as o'er Burst harsh jarring blasts, and like breakers their roar; While clink of the hoof-iron and tinkle of blade Made sprinkle like lute in love's soft serenade. Three cheers! Oh, footsore and weary our steeds at last grew! Oh, hungry and dreary the long moments drew! We froze to our saddles, spur hardly could ply: What of that! we were lucky, and now could but die! Three cheers! But we wore through the moments, we rode though in pain; Were sure to forget all when camp came again;— So we rode and we rode, till, hurrah! on our sight Burst our tents, as on midnight comes bursting the light! Three cheers!