Spanish Moss

Seaweed astream, you live by Air—
   Whose Prince it was invented Loss,
First raised the Standard of Despair—
   Wave, wave your Banners, Spanish Moss!

Here where brother shot down brother
   Despair’s not hard to put across,
Where South and North destroyed each other
   Flaunt, flaunt your Pennons, Spanish Moss!

There under that Secession Oak,
   Where those wild hearts dug out their fosse
While the symbolic Union broke,
   Wave, wave your Banners, Spanish Moss!

What’s left now of what once was Spain?
   Alert us, you funereal floss.
Deep smoulderings flare up again.
   Wave, wave your Banners, Spanish Moss!

Stirrings within the darkening soul
   Endless its fraying Passions toss.
Drearly the devotees enroll.
   Wave, wave your Banners, Spanish Moss!

Mindless the murdering missions ply,
   Our might grown merciless, alas.
Mad, mad the dreams we’re riven by.
   Flaunt, flaunt your Pennons, Spanish Moss!

The heroes’ bones are said to sleep.
   Valor’s astray and Virtue dross.
Though Grief’s as high as Courage is deep.
   Wave, wave your Banners, Spanish Moss!

Psyche, your age-long anguish bleeds,
   Yet open wounds your skin emboss.
Emblems of woe, these swaying weeds.
   O still your Streamers, Spanish Moss!