Rising early with the sun on the mist of an Autumn's morning, drear,
A son of Carolina oak and Tobacco faced his mortal fear;
He had fought for his dear, old Dixieland and upheld the common soldier-boy's eternal royalty,
Yet valiant Silent Sam was laid a-low for the crime of loyalty.
His spirit scoured in that stone where the October wind, cruelly, sighed,
And, with the stiff heartbeat of a cavalier, gazed through the humble statue's eyes.
Though at first, the mob could only taunt his boots, they soon grew bold, or knave,
That Silent Sam would be toppled for the crime of loyalty.
Unto his stand, Antifa came, their blackened masks unphased;
Saith Sam, in an unheard voice: I am ready now, to be vandalized and defaced,
So paint o'er my plaque, you bastard Yanks; my soul goes graciously!
Thus they smashed his likeness upon the turf for the crime of loyalty.
Trust to luck, Trust all to luck; stare death square in the face,
And sure your heart will be easy if it remains in the right place!
And this he shouted, silently, unto the Heavens, high, as old stone was cracked by clay,
But brave Silent Sam yet marches on in the Southland's memory!