[00:00.000] 作曲 : John W. Palmer
[00:13.047]Come, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails,
[00:15.295]Stir up the camp-fire bright;
[00:17.263]No matter if the canteen fails,
[00:19.223]We'll make a rousing night!
[00:21.182]Here Shenandoah brawls along,
[00:23.144]And burly Blue-Ridge echoes strong,
[00:25.106]To swell our brigade's rousing song
[00:27.074]Of "Stonewall Jackson's way."
[00:29.323]We see him now, - the old slouched hat,
[00:31.012]Cocked o'er his eye askew;
[00:32.974]The shrewd, dry smile, - the speech so pat,
[00:35.215]So calm, so blunt, so true.
[00:37.181]That  "Blue-Light Elder," knows him well.
[00:39.152]Says he, "that's Banks, - he's fond of shell;
[00:41.118]Lord save his soul! we'll give him - well."
[00:43.088]That's Stonewall Jackson's way.
[00:53.196]Silence! ground arms! kneel all! caps off!
[00:55.167]Old "Blue Light's" going to pray.
[00:57.128]Strangle the fool that dares to scoff!
[00:59.083]Attention! That's his way.
[01:01.041]Appealing from his native sod,
[01:03.007]"Hear us, hear us, oh mighty God,"
[01:05.249]Lay "tare Thine arm; stretch forth thy rod,
[01:07.217]"That's Stonewall Jackson's way."
[01:09.463]He's in the saddle now, Fall in!
[01:11.149]Steady the whole brigade;
[01:13.111]Hill's at the ford, cut off, we'll win
[01:15.073]His way out, ball and blade!
[01:17.039]What matter if our shoes are worn?
[01:19.018]What matter if our feet are torn?
[01:20.982]Quick-step! we're with him there at dawn!
[01:23.222]That's "Stonewall Jackson's way."
[01:33.263]The sun's bright lances, rout the mists,
[01:34.946]Of morning, and by George!
[01:37.193]Here's Longstreet, struggling in the lists,
[01:38.874]Hemmed in an ugly gorge.
[01:41.115]Pope and his Yankees, fierce before,
[01:43.079]"Bay'nets and grape!" hear Stonewall roar;
[01:45.044]"Charge, Stuart! Pay off Ashby's score!"
[01:47.290]In "Stonewall Jackson's way."
[01:49.256]Ah! Maiden, wait and watch and yearn
[01:50.935]For news of Jackson's band!
[01:53.180]Ah! Widow, read, with eyes that burn,
[01:55.142]That ring upon thy hand;
[01:57.108]Ah! Wife, sew on, hope on, and pray
[01:59.074]Thy life shall not be all forlorn
[02:01.041]The foe had better ne'er been born
[02:03.006]That gets in "Stonewall's way."