Stonewall Jackson, who had read and studied much, knew that the power of simple songs was scarcely less than that of rifle and bayonet, and he willingly let them sing on.

Now and then, a gleam came from the blue eyes in his tanned, bearded face.
Harry, sensitive and prone to enthusiasm, was flushed in every vein by the marching song.

He seemed to himself to be endowed with a new life of vigor and energy.

The invader trod the Southern land and they must rush upon him at once.

He was eager for a sight of the blue masses which they would certainly overcome.
He returned to his place near the head of the column with the staff of the commander.