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146 SONG OF THE SIXTY-NINTH.
Go, bind his green sinews of rock-wearing waves, Till he begs at your feet like your own fettered
slaves. Go, cover his pulses with sods of the ground, Till he hides from your sight like a hare from the
hound; Then swarm to our borders and silence the notes That thunder of Freedom from millions of throats.
SONG OF THE SIXTY-NINTH.* Air—" The Flag of our Union Forever."
THEN fling out the banner, on high let it wave
O'er the land of the exile's affection, And cursed be the coward, and branded the slave, Who refuses that flag his protection.
'T is the emblem of Freedom on sea and on land,
No tyrant shall ever profane it; By Heaven, it shall thus continue to stand,
Though we spill our heart's blood to maintain it.
* New York State Militia.