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THE SOUTHERN MARSEILLAISE.
Ye men of Southern hearts and feeling,
Arm! arm ! your struggling country calls I Hear ye the guns now loudly pealing,
From Sumpter's high embattled walls! Shall a fanatic horde in power
Send forth a base and hireling band To desolate our happy land
And make our Southern freemen cower ?
ChoRus—To arms, to arms ! each one,
Th' sword unsheathe, and raise the gun, Then on, rush on, ye brave and free, To death and victory.
Now clouds of war begin to gather,
And black and murky is our sky— Shall we submit—no, never, never!
Let death or freedom be our cry— In Heaven's justice firm relying,
We'll nobly struggle to be free, And bravely gain our liberty,
Or die our Northern foes defying.
The peaceful homes of Texas burning, And Harper's Ferry's blood-stained soil,
Proclaim how strong their hearts are yearning, For murder, pillage, crime and spoil.