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     Their breath upon the darkness passed.

A mighty host, on either hand,
     Stood waiting for the dawn of day
To crush like reeds our feeble band;
     The morn has come, and where are they?

Troop after troop their line forsakes;
     With peace-white banners waving free,
And from our own the glad shout breaks,
     Of Freedom and Fraternity!

Like mist before the growing light,
     The hostile cohorts melt away;
Our frowning foemen of the night
     Are brothers at the dawn of day!

As unto these repentant ones
     We open wide our toil-worn ranks,
Along our line a murmur runs
     Of song, and praise, and grateful thanks.

Sound for the onset! Blast on blast!
     Till Slavery's minions cower and quail;
One charge of fire shall drive them fast
     Like chaff before our Northern gale!

O prisoners in your house of pain,
     Dumb, toiling millions, bound and sold,
Look I stretched o'er Southern vale and plain,
     The Lord's delivering hand behold!

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