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Over vale and over mountain |
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Pillow his head on his flashing sword |
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Raise the Southern flag on high ! |
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Raise the thrilling cry, to arms! |
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Rally round our country's flag !. |
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Representing nothing on God's earth now, |
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Rise, rise, mountain and valley men |
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Sabine Pass ! in letters of gold. |
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Sing ho ! for the Southerner's meteor flag. |
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Sitting by the roadside on a Summer day |
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Softly comes the twilight stealing gently through my prison bars. |
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Softly in dreams of repose. |
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Soldiers ! raise your banner proudly |
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Sons of freedom, on to glory |
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Sons of the South, arouse to battle. |
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Sons of the South awake to glory. |
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Sons of the South, beware the foe. |
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Sons of the South ! from hill and dale |
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Southern men, unsheathe the sword. |
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Southrons, hear your country call you |
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States of the South ! confederate land. |
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The boys are coming home again...... |
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The boys down South in Dixie's Land, |
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The despot's heel is on thy shore, |
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The foe ! the foe! They come ! they come ! |
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The hour was sad I left the maid, |
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The morning star is paling, the camp-fires flicker low |
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The muffled drum is beating |
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The night-cloud had lowered o'er Shiloh's red plain |
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The Northern abolition vandals. |
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The sentinel treads his martial round. |
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The shades of night were falling fast. |
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The snow is in the cloud, and night is gathering o'er us |
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The South for me ! The sunny clime |
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The sun sinking o'er the battle plain, |
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The tyrant's broad pennant is floating:. |
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The war drum is beating, prepare for the fight |
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The Yankees hate the Lone Star State, because she did secede |
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There he stood, the grand old hero, great Virginia's god-like son |
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There is freedom on each fold, and each star is freedom's throne |
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Though we're a band of prisoners. |
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Thou hast gone forth, my darling one |
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Three cheers for the Southern flag |
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'Tis dead of night, nor voice, nor sound, breaks on the stillness of the air. |
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