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Glory's track, glory's track
Opes to us, as it did to our sires;
What they built we renew,
Let their sons light anew
Freedom's pure flame, of liberty's fires.
As our pine, as our pine,
Always shine, always shine,
Ever verdant, amid winter's blast;
Let our faith in the right
Make us stand to the fight,
Not relax while the battle doth last.
Sons of Maine! Sons of Maine!
Not in vain, not in vain,
Let our brothers encamped call for aid;
Let the Seven Thousand1 charge!
With the one-armed, at their targe,
And rebellion at our feet will be laid.
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