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216 A CHEER FOR THE WEST.
They are carried off captives or slain, Or, fugitives over the plain, Escape from the terrible fight.
Hurrah for the bold General Grant! He knew no such phrase as " I can't,"
But uttered in thunder, " I will" — " Move onward," " Move onward!" — the land Echoed wide to that word of command,
And, hark ! it reverberates still.
Oh, perish, ye traitors and knaves, Ye changers of men into slaves,
Ye Rebels, so craven and base — Where now is your boasted reliance, And where are your scowls of defiance,
'Mid clouds of defeat and disgrace.
The dastards and wretches who fled, By the thief of Virginia led,
May tell of the capture and shame Of their brothers-in-arms who contended Till the hot, bloody contest was ended,
And the West won her laurels of fame.
The West! the victorious West! With praises and thanks she is blest,