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[50] Ay! when our soldiers brave,
On battle-field and wave,
Sprang forth with deadly stroke
Through battle's blazing smoke,
Our standard to uphold,
And save its every fold,
These home-born traitors cry,
God grant no victory!”
Though scores of gallant heroes
Round the old flag bravely die.

Rise, then, each loyal man,
Your home-horizon scan,
And plant the nation's flag
On hill-side and on crag;
And let your swelling soul
In earnest tones outroll
That brave resolve of old,
When our fathers, true and bold,
Swore a fealty to the flag
Which never once grew cold.

The flag, the flag bends low,
For whirlwinds round it blow,
And wild, chaotic night
Is veiling it from sight;
So let us every one,
While yet the winds rage on,
Cling round the straining mast
And hold the banner fast,
Till stormy Treason's rage
Be safely overpast.

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