For, wrapped in silence and in tears,                           And canopied by creeping years,                                 Forever freed from fury' fears,                                    Our deathless dead ones sleep;                               While o'er their forms the flowererts twine               And mockingbirds sing their songs divine,               And soft and still the moonbeams shine                    O'er Southrons whom we weep !                                                                                         from the May 1899 Confederate Veteran Magazine.                             Author Unknown

Sleep sweetly in you humble graves, Sleep, martyrs of a fallen cause;   Thought yet no marble column craves The pilgrim here to pause.

In seeds of laurel in the earth  The blossom of your fame is blown,   And somewhere, waiting for its birth,  The shaft is in the stone !

Meanwhile, behalf the tardy years   Which keep in trust your storied tombs, Behold ! your sisters bring their tears, And those memorial blooms.

Small tributes ! but your shade will smile More proudly on those weaths to-day  Than when some cannon-molded pile Shall overlook the bay.

Stoop, angels, hither from the skies ! There is no holier spot of ground   Than where defeated valor lies, By mourning beauty crowned. !       

written by Henry Timrod 1899.

Are Southern Sons do stand and wait

As heaven does open her pearly gates

For these are the Fathers, brothers and Sons who lost there

lives trying to save there families and loved ones.

they fought for the right to of there State and there lands,

and not for those who would in slave the black man.

they fought for the rights that the north had scorned,

for land, liberty and the same rights for Northern as well as Southern Born.

Author of this is unknown at this time