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THE YEAR OF EMANCIPATION.
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Let hallelujahs roll afar!—when God the work has done,And smiled thereon, how fair a star shall bloom beside the sun!"
Saw ye, when surged along the land the orient flood of day,The New Year on Atlantic's strand his silvery wings delay?Some effluent song harp-sweet and clear stole down the depth profound,"Lo! God hath sent thee, beauteous Year! go, heal Columbia's wound!"
