Victory Won at Richmond The southern boys may longer lie On the first and fourth of sweet July Our General Beauregard resound For his southern boys at Richmond. That night we laid on the cold ground No tents nor shelter could be found With rain and hail was nearly drowned To cheer our hearts at Richmond. Next morn the burning sun did rise Beneath the cloudy eastern skies Our general viewed the forts and cried "We'll have hot work at Richmond!" As soon as the height we strove to gain Our balls did fly as thick as rain I'm sure the plains they did run red With the blood that was shed at Richmond. As soon as the heights we did command We fought the Yankees hand to hand And many a hero there was slain On the plains at Richmond. And many a pretty fair maid will mourn For her lover who will ne'er return And parents mourn beyond control For their sons they lost at Richmond. Thirty thousand Yankees, I heard them say Were slain all on that fatal day And seven thousand Southerners lay In the bloody gore at Richmond. Their guns and knapsacks they threw down And ran like hares before the hounds I'm sure the plains they did run red With the blood that was shed at Richmond. Cease, you Southerners, from your hand Which from Yankees we cannot stand Go spread the news throughout the land Of the victory that was won at Richmond. From Folksongs of the South, Cox RG
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