Poem by Albert Pike

A Lament for Dixie

Southrons, conquered, subjugated,
Mourn your country devastated!
Mourn for hapless, hopeless Dixie!
Homes once happy, desolated,
Church and altar desecrated;
Mourn for fallen, ruined Dixie!
Lament the fall of Dixie!
Alas! Alas!
On Dixie's land we'll sadly stand,
And live or die for Dixie,
Endure! Endure!
All ills endure for Dixie!

Endure! Endure!
All ills endure for Dixie!
Mourn your dead whose bones lie bleaching,
Courage to the living teaching;
Wail, but still be proud for Dixie!
Mourn your Southland, crushed and trampled,
Bearing sorrows unexampled;
Wail, but still be proud for Dixie?
Lament, &c.

Prey despoiled and victim bleeding,
Not to man for mercy pleading,
Unto God alone cries Dixie:
Cross of anguish bravely bearing,
Crown of thorns submissive wearing,
Patient and resigned is Dixie.
Lament, &c.

All our States lie fainting, dying,
Each to each with sobs replying,
Each still loving, honoring Dixie:
By the accurst scourge lacerated,
By her freed slaves ruled and hated,
She is still our own dear Dixie.
Lament, &c.

Dear to us our conquered banners,
Greeted once with loud hosannas:
Dear the tattered flag of Dixie:
Dear the field of Honor glorious,
Where, defeated or victorious,
Sleep the immortal Dead of Dixie.
Lament, &c.

Conquered, we are not degraded,
Southern laurels have not faded;
Mourn, but not in shame, for Dixie!
Deck your Heroes' graves with garlands,
Till the echo comes from far lands,
"Honor to the dead of Dixie!"
Lament, &c.

All is not yet lost unto us,—
Baseness only can undo us;
Mourn,—you cannot blush,—for Dixie!
Kneeling at your country's altar,
Swear your children not to falter,
Till the right shall rule in Dixie.
Lament, &c.

If her fate be sealed, we'll share it;
By our shroudless dead we swear it;
Ours the life or death of Dixie!
By her Past's all-glorious story,
By her loyal Martyrs' glory,
We will live or die with Dixie!
Lament, &c.

Shall there to our Night of Sorrow
Be no glad and bright To-morrow?
Is hope, even, lost to Dixie?—
Every dark night hath its morning,
Long, though, oft, delayed its dawning:
Wait! be patient! pray for Dixie!

Hope for dawn for Dixie!
Endure! Endure!
On Dixie's land we'll fearless stand,
And hope and pray for Dixie.
Endure! Endure!
All ills endure for Dixie!
Endure! Endure!
All ills endure for Dixie!

1. After the Midnight Cometh Morn
2. Ode to the Mocking-Bird
3. Every Year
4. The Fine Arkansas Gentleman
5. Agapou Pneuma

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