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William Ernest Henley - Romance
Work rating: Low

`Talk of pluck!` pursued the Sailor,
Set at euchre on his elbow,
`I was on the wharf at Charleston,
Just ashore from off the runner.

`It was grey and dirty weather,
And I heard a drum go rolling,
Rub-a-dubbing in the distance,
Awful dour-like and defiant.

`In and out among the cotton,
Mud, and chains, and stores, and anchors,
Tramped a squad of battered scarecrows -
Poor old Dixie`s bottom dollar!

`Some had shoes, but all had rifles,
Them that wasn`t bald was beardless,
And the drum was rolling Dixie,
And they stepped to it like men, sir!

`Rags and tatters, belts and bayonets,
On they swung, the drum a-rolling,
Mum and sour.  It looked like fighting,
And they meant it too, by thunder!`
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