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The National Music of America.
" Let me not wait here sadly, To thee would I come gladly, Sighing blood-rose's breath, Crowned with a wreath of Death." Hurrah!
Then come, whate'er befalls thee, Thy soldier-bridegroom calls thee ! Come forth, oh, bride adored ! Come forth, my shining sword ! Hurrah!
" Joy, to be newly risen, Joy, to have left my prison! Now in the rider's hand Glitters and gleams the brand." Hurrah !
No more the weapon hiding, For Germany we're riding ; Each soldier's heart aglow, Forward to meet the foe. Hurrah!
No more at left side hidden, To my right hand thou'rt bidden, There shalt thou ever be Till God grants Liberty. Hurrah!