J.H. Brace

The Battle of Helena.

Dedicated to Co. C.

July 4th, 1963.

The morning stars fade one by one,
Loud booms Helena's signal gun;
The echo rolling on until
The great guns roar from hill to hill.
Quoth Holmes to Saith "please let me take
Helena," and we'll celebrate
The nation's holiday once more,
And drive the Yankees from our shore.

The Battle.

'Tis the Johnnies that fire on our pickets; fall in!
And the long roll of drums wakes the echoes within
The camp of the army that so silently lay
Couched low at Helena like a lion at bay.
As the broad, rolling river reflects a bright ray
Of "Old Sol" as he rose on that natal day,
The bright rays of the morning as they flash and gleam
From the guns of the Tyler that lay in the ...
As the shells from her batteries scream as they fly,
Hurrah for Helena and the Fourth of July!
Forward they charge, on, on with the old rebel yell
Come those heroes in gray, but to die where the fell;
Like a whirlwind they come 'till they gain the redoubt,
A moment of victory which soon turns to rout.
General Price is defeated, the battle is lost.
And for the gray rank and file, ah! what is the cost?
And how goes the battle away out on the right,
Where Marmaduke's legions still continue the fight?
Like a flash his dark charger bore Lacey that day.
Swiftly back to headquarters comes Lacey's report
That the boys from Iowa are holding the fort,
And the foe on our left, on our center and right.
Defeated, retreating, falling back from the fight.
The battle is over and "Old Glory" for aye
Shall wave over the ramparts of old Helena.

Roll on mighty river, bear the tidings away
While the death angel claims both the blue and the gray;
The last battle is fought for possession of thee,
Roll on Mississippi in thy peace to the sea.