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147

Bless God, he went as soldiers,
His musket on his breast—
Grant God, he charge the bravest
Of all the martial blest!

Please God, might I behold him
In epauletted white—
I should not fear the foe then—
I should not fear the fight!

Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 4 Sep 2026 12:40 AM | Viewed: 8225 times

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