Part 4

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."

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 have all often met, And, when cooked in the old army style, It has charms we can never forget.

CHORUS.

The German is fond of sauer kraut, The potato is loved by the Mick, But the soldiers have long since found out That thro' life to our beans we should stick.--CHORUS.

REFRAIN.

Air--"TELL AUNT RHODA."

Beans for breakfast, Beans for dinner, Beans for supper, Beans! Beans!! Beans!!!

BRAVE BOYS ARE THEY.

(Used by permission of S. Brainard's Sons, owners of the copyright.)

KEY OF A FLAT.

Heavily falls the rain, Wild are the breezes tonight; But 'neath the roof the hours as they fly Are happy, and calm, and bright. Gathering round our firesides, Tho' it be summer time, We sit and talk of brothers abroad, Forgetting the midnight chime.

CHORUS.

Brave boys are they! Gone at their country's call; And yet, and yet we cannot forget That many brave boys must fall.

Under the homestead roof, Nestled so cozy and warm, While soldiers sleep with little or naught To shelter them from the storm. Resting on grassy couches, Pillow'd on hillocks damp, Of martial fare how little we know Till brothers are in camp.--CHORUS.

Thinking no less of them, Loving our country the more, We sent them forth to fight for the flag Their fathers before them bore. Though the great teardrops started, This was our parting trust: "God bless you, boys! we'll welcome you home When rebels are in the dust."--CHO.

May the bright wings of love Guard them wherever they roam; The time has come when brothers must fight And sisters must pray at home. Oh! the dread field of battle! Soon to be strewn with graves! If brothers fall, then bury them where Our banner in triumph waves.--CHORUS.

BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC.

(By Mrs. Julia Ward Howe.)

Air--"JOHN BROWN."

As sung by Chaplain C.C. McCabe while a prisoner in Libby, after hearing Old Ben (the colored paper-seller in Richmond) cry out, "Great news by the telegraph! Great battles at Gettysburg! Union soldiers gain the day!" Upon hearing such glorious news Chaplain McCabe sung this soul-stirring hymn, all the prisoners joining heartily in the chorus, making the old prison walls ring--"Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!"

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is tramping out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He has loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible quick sword; His truth is marching on.