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POEMS.
And they who founded, in our land,The power that rales from sea to sea,Bled they in vain, or vainly plannedTo leave their country great and free?Their sleeping ashes, from below,Send up the thrilling murmur, No!
Knit they the gentle ties which longThese sister States were proud to wear,And forged the kindly links so strongFor idle hands in sport to tear?For scornful hands aside to throw?No, by our fathers' memory, No!
Our humming marts, our iron ways,Our wind-tossed woods on mountain-crest,The hoarse Atlantic, with its bays,The calm, broad Ocean of the West,And Mississippi's torrent-flow,And loud Niagara, answer, No!