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Wave, Wave, the Banner High.

11

TUNE -- "March to the Battle Field."

Wave, wave the banner high,
And onward to the field, boys,
By its true blue of the sky,
We ne'er will Texas yield, boys;
Each plain and wood,
Stained by the blood,
Of freedom's pilgrim sons, boys,
There Houston led,
And Crockett bled,
And brav'd the tyrant's guns, boys.
Then wave, wave, &c.

All Europe's haughty powers,
Have owned her a nation,
And we have made her ours,
By the annexation.
A land so fair,
Shall foemen dare,
To crush or to enslave, boys,
No, by our veins,
We'll free her plains,
And dig each tyrants grave, boys,
Then wave, wave, &c.

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