In the ranks of Marion's band,
Through morass and wooded land,
Over beach of yellow sand,
Mountain, plain, and valley,
A southern maid, in all her pride,
Marched gayly at her lover's side,
In such disguise
That e'en his eyes
Did not discover Sallie!
When returned from midnight tramp,
Through the forest dark and damp,
Oh his straw-couch in the camp,
In his dreams he'd dally
With that devoted, gentle fair,
Whose large black eyes and flowing hair
So near him seem,
That in his dream,
He breathes his love for Sallie!
Oh, what joy, that maiden knew,
When she found her lover true!--
Suddenly the trumpet blew,
Marion's men to rally!
To ward the death-spear from his side!--
In battle by Santee she died!--
Where sings the surge
A ceaseless dirge
Near the lone grave of Sallie.