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SONG OF THE SQUIRREL-HUNTER. |
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SONG OF THE SQUIRREL-HUNTER.
BY G. W. PETERS.
UP, arouse, my fellow-ranger, We are needed in the fray ; Our country is in danger;
Seize your rifle and away. Never shame your rig, old fellow,
Other lads have shoddy suits, Ours is baize and homespun yellow, Kossuth hat and hunter's boots.
Not a drum hath need to rattle,
Not a bugle need be blown ; We are wanted in the battle,
That is all that need be known. Not a signal-gun at morning
Speaks to call us to the war, For we ask no other warning,
Than our brother's cry from far.
Is the Rebel foe grown bolder ?
Does he come in armed array ? Not a star upon the shoulder
Burns to light us on our way. |
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