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SOUTHERN POEMS OF THE WAR.
But sometimes, when adown the western sky,
The fiery sunset lingers,
Its golden gates swing inward, noiselessly,
Unlocked by unseen Rogers.
And while they stand a moment half ajar,
Gleams from the inner glory
Stream brightly through the azure vault afar,
And half reveal the story.
Oh, land unknown! Oh, land of the divine !
Father, All-Wise, Eternal,
Guide, guide these wandering, way worn feet of mine
Into those pastures vernal !
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