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Now, by the free-born sires
From whose brave loins ye sprung-, And by the noble mothers
At whose fond breasts ye hung'! And by your wives and daughters,
And by the ills they dread Drive deep that good secession steel
Right through the monster's head.
This serpent abolition
Has been coiling on for years. We have reasoned, we have threatened,
We have begged almost with tears ; Now, away, away with union,
Since on our Southern soil The only union left us
Is an anaconda's coil.
Brave little South Carolina
Will strike the self-same blow, And Florida, and Georgia,
And Mississippi, too, And Arkansas, and Texas;
And at the death, I ween, The head will fall beneath the blows
Of all the brave fifteen.
In this, our day of trial,
Let feuds and factions cease, Until above this howling storm
We see the sign of peace. Let Southern men, like brothers,
In solid phalanx stand, And poise their spears, and lock their shields
To guard their native land.