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We have had just enough of their Northern law, That robbed us so long- of our right, man,
And too much of their cursed abolition jaw,— Now we'll see what they'll do in a fight, man!
Their parsons will open their sanctified jaws,
And cant of our slave-growing- sin, sir; They pocket the profits, while preaching the laws,
And manage our cotton to spin, sir. Their incomes are nice, on our sugar and rice,
Though against it the hypocrites write, sir ; Now our dander is up, and they'll soon smell a mice,
If we once get them into a fight, sir.
Our cotton bales once made a good barricade,
And can still do the State a good service; With them and the boys of the blue cockade,
There is power enough to preserve us. So shoulder your rifles, my boys, for defense,
In the cause of our freedom and right, man ; If there's no other way for to learn them sense,
We may teach them a lesson in fight, man.
The stars that are growing so fast on our flags,
We treasure as Liberty's pearls, And stainless we'll bear them, though shot into rags;
They were fixed by the hands of our girls, And fixed stars they shall be in our national sky,
To guide through the future aright, man, And your Cousin Sam, with their gleam in his eye,
May dare the whole world to fight, man.