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The music I love is
The shout of the brave,
The yell of the dying,
The scream of the flying,
When this arm wields Death's sickle,
And garners the grave.
Joy Givek ! T kiss thee.
Far isles of the ocean
Thy lightning have known,
And wide o'er the main-land
Thy horrors have shone.
Great sword of my father,
Stern joy of his hand.
Thou hast carved his name deep on
The stranger's red strand,
And won him the glory
Of undying song.
Keen cleaver of gay crests,
Sharp piercer of broad breasts,
Grim slayer of heroes.
And scourge of the strong.
Fame Giver ! I kiss thee.
In a love more abiding
Than that the heart knows,
For maiden more lovely
Than summer's first rose,
My heart's knit to thine.
And lives but for thee ;
In dreamings of gladness,
Thou'rt dancing with me,
Brave measures of madness.
In some battle-field,
Where armour is ringing,

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