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RIFLEMAN'S SONG. Air-My Lodging the Cold Ground. Behold our stern mountains, our fields fresh and fair, Where ..

... invader has trod; See our homesteads of peaca, see our temples of prayer, Where in freedom worship our God! But what heard from our bugles' alarms, That invaders had atepp'd on our shore Th n. Riflemen ! Riflemen stand your arms! the front, every man with his corps! Behold our dear country, brightest isle of the sea- Brightest gem which on earth ever shone; The refuge of patriots, the home of ...