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60. war song.

by William H. C. Hosmer.
With sword on thigh, “to do or die,”
     I march to meet the foe;
A pirate band have cursed the land,
     Then deal the deadly blow.
To Richmond on, and write upon
     Her walls the words of doom;
Secession's horde from Freedom's sword
     Deserves a bloody tomb.

Sound, bugle, sound! a rally round
     The Star-flag of the Free;
Nursed by a flood of generous blood
     Was Freedom's sacred tree.
Accursed by God in dust be trod
     Rebellion's hellish horde;
The fiends to tame hearts are aflame
     With cannon-peal and sword.

'Tis hard to leave the babes that grieve
     For a fond, absent sire;
His cherished wife, charm of his life,
     To brave the battle's fire;
But duty calls, and loudly falls
     Our war-cry on the ear;
Our banners wave above the brave--
     Then on! and know not fear.

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