[93]
Then, hail to the land of the pine!
The home of the noble and free!
A palmetto wreath we'll entwine
Round the altar of young Liberty!
II.
Our flag with its cluster of stars,
Firm fixed in a field of pure blue,
All shining through red and white bars,
Now gallantly flutters in view.
The stalwart and brave round it rally,
They press to their lips every fold;
While the hymn swells from hill and from valley:
“Be God with our volunteers bold.”
Then, hail to the land of the pine I &c.
III.
Tha invaders rush down from the North;
Our borders are black with their hordes,
Like wolves for their victims they froth,
While whetting their knives and their swords.
Their watchword is “Booty and Beauty;”
Their aim is to steal as they go;
But, Southrons, act up to your duty,
And lay the foul miscreants low.
Then, hail to the land of the pine! &c.
IV.
The God of our fathers looks down,
And blesses the cause of the just;
His smile will the patriot crown
Who tramples his chains in the dust.
March, march, Southrons!
shoulder to shoulder,
One heart-throb, one shout for the cause;
Remember, the world's a beholder,
And your bayonets are fixed at your doors!
Then, hail to the land of the pine! &c.
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