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ROLLING HOME.
Up aloft amid the rigging,
Swiftly blows the fav 'ring gale, Strong as spring-time in its blossom
Filling out each bending sail; And the waves we leave behind us,
Seem to murmur as they rise; We have tarried here to bear you
To the land you dearly prize.
Rolling home, rolling home,
Rolling home across the sea; Rolling home to fair Columbia,
Rolling home dear land to thee.
Full ten thousand miles behind us,
And a thousand miles before, Ancient ocean heaves to bind us
To the well remembered shore; New-born breezes swell to waft us
To our childhood's welcome skies, To the glow of friendly faces
And the glance of loving eyes.
Rolling home, etc. |
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