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Chapter IV

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Now light the fire, and cook the meal,
The last perhaps that we shall taste;
I hear the Swamp Fox round us steal,
And that's a sign we move in haste.
He whistles to the scouts, and hark!
You hear his order calm and low--
Come, wave your torch across the dark,
And let us see the boys that go.

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Southern Literature From 1579-1895Chapter IV

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