Good Shot.
By James McIntyre
At great reunion of the South,
Of those had faced the cannon's mouth,
Where each could show a glorious scar
He had received in the war.
And there was an artillery major,
Said he, I am free to wager
I fired the best shot in the war,
And fame of it was heard afar.
The Federals fired at us a shell,
And near our battery it fell,
It gave us momentary alarm,
But it caused us little harm.
For the fuse it ceased to burn,
And I resolved shell to return
To the same spot from whence it came,
I put in fuse was sure to flame.
From mortar's mouth it went forth
Seeking for vengeance on the North,
And this swift messenger from South
It entered their great cannon's mouth.
And blew the gun all into atoms,
Which left desolate many homes,
But North had justice on her side.
In truth and virtue was her pride.
And high Heaven had well decreed
That the poor slave he should be freed,
And even the South doth prosper more
With freedom than she did before.