By Catherine M. Warfield. (3)

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Glorious Virginia! Freedom sprang
Light to her feet at thy trumpet's clang:
At the first sound of that clarion blast,
Foes like the chaff from the whirlwind passed--
Passed to their doom: from that hour no more
Triumphs their cause by sea or shore.

Glorious Virginia! noble the blood
That hath bathed thy fields in a crimson flood;
On many a wide-spread and sunny plain,
Like leaves of autumn thy dead have lain:
The Southron heart is their funeral urn!
The Southern slogan their requiem stern!

Glorious Virginia! to thee, to thee
We lean, as the shoots to the parent tree;
Bending in awe at thy glance of might;--
First in the council, first in the fight!
While our flag is fanned by the breath of fame,
Glorious Virginia! we'll bless thy name.

The War-Christian's Thanksgiving.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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