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With Davis your tool,
In a fanatical school,
You'll pillage and burn o'er the country you'll rule;
Then “the flag of Secession” in darkness will wave
O'er the land of our freedom and Liberty's grave.
You've trampled the laws of our land 'neath your feet,
And now e'en exult that your slaves still pursue it;
But the day is forthcoming when freemen you'll meet;
Then, bitterly then, will your hirelings rue it.
But if a defeat
Our armies should meet,
No life will be spared but to those that are fleet,
When rebeldom's banner in darkness will wave
O'er the downfall of freedom and Liberty's grave.
No despot has ever polluted your soil,
For Freedom's proud banner is over it streaming;
We come not, we come not your land to despoil,
But to arouse ye, our brethren from Secession-dreaming.
No patriot's afraid,
By the laws they have made,
That the banner of Freedom in its grandeur will fade,
But forever, majestic, continue to wave
A terror to tyrants, o'er rebeldom's grave.
We would meet you as friends — yet it cannot be so,
Our friendship is spurned by the whole rebel nation,
You term us “base Hessians,” the “Southern man's foe,”
And scorn us, your brethren, with fierce exultations;
“Go let us alone,”
A half-stifled moan,
We hear as they reap now the harvest they've sown;
For the Union's proud standard defiant will wave
Protection to freedom o'er the land of the brave.
Baltimore, Md., January, 1862.
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