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SONG OF THE PRIVATEER. By Alex. A. Cummins.
Fearlessly the seas we roam,
Tossed by each briny wave; Its boundless surface is our home,
Its bosom deep our graves. No foreign mandate fills with awe
Our gallant hearted band; We know no home, we know no law,
But that of Dixie's land.
The bright star is our compass true,
Our chart the ocean wide; Our only hope the noble few
That's standing side by side; We do not fear the stormy gale
That sweeps old ocean's strand; We scorn our enemy's clumsy sail,
And all for Dixie's land.
We love to hoist to the topmost peak,
Our Southern Stars and Stripes; And woe to him who dares to seek
To trample on their rights I It is the aegis of the free,
And by it we will stand, And watch it waving o'er the sea,
And over Dixie's land.