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20. a Northern rally. by John Clancy. We've borne too long this Southern wrong, That ever sought to shame us; The threat and boast, the braggart toast, “That Southern men would tame us.” We've bent the knee to chivalry, Have borne the lie and scorning, But now, thank God, our Northern blood Has roused itself from fawning. The issue's made, our flag's displayed, Let he who dare retard it; No cowards here grow pale with fear, For Northern swords now guard it. The men that won at Lexington A name and fame in story, Were patriot sires, who lit the fires To lead their sons to glory. Like rushing tide down mountain side, The Northern hosts are sweeping; Each freeman's breast to meet the test With patriot blood is leaping. Now Southern sneer and bullies' leer, Will. find swift vengeance meted; For never yet, since foemen met, Have Northern men retreated. United now, no more we'll bow, Or supplicate, or reason: 'Twill be our shame and lasting blame If we consent to treason. Then in