WAR. [J. G. PERCIVAL.]

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For war is now upon their shores,
And we must meet the foe,
Must go where battle's thunder roars,
And brave men slumber low;
Go, where the sleep of death comes on
The proudest hearts, who dare
To grasp the wreath by valor won,
And glory's banquet share.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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