I. br br By the sword of St. Michael br The old dragon through; br By David his sling br And the giant he slew; br Let us write us a rhyme, br As a record to tell br How the South on a time br Stormed the ramparts of Hell br With her barefooted boys! br br II. br br Had the South in her border br A hero to spare, br Or a heart at her altar, br Lo! its life's blood was there! br And the black battle-grime br Might never disguise br The smile of the South br On the lips and the eyes br Of her barefooted boys! br br III. br br There's a grandeur in fight, br And a terror the while, br But none like the light br Of that terrible smile - br The smile of the South, br When the storm-cloud unrolls br The lightening that loosens br The wrath in the souls br Of her barefooted boys! br br IV. br br It withered the foe br Like the red light that runs br Through the dead forest leaves, br And he fled from his guns! br Grew the smile to a laugh, br Rose the laugh to a yell.