The Good Old Songs We Used to Sing, '61 to '65 by Osborn H. Oldroyd

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We are coming, Father Abraham -- three hundred thousand more, / From Mississippi's winding stream and from New England's shore; / We leave our plows and workshops, our wives and children dear, / With hearts too full for utterance, with but a silent tear; / We dare not look behind us, but steadfastly before -- / We are coming, Father Abraham -- three hundred thousand more!

If you look across the hill-tops that meet the northern sky, / Long moving lines of rising dust your vision may descry; / And now the wind, an instant, tears the cloud veil aside, / And floats aloft our spangled flag in glory and in pride; / And bayonets in the sunlight gleam, and bands brave music pour -- / We are coming, Father Abraham -- three hundred thousand more!

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