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Alas! bright Spring! not long Shall I enjoy thy pleasant influence: For thou shalt die the summer heat among, Sublimed to vapor in his fire intense, And, gone forever hence, Exist no more; no more to earth belong, Except in song. - [Spring] From the Rio Grande's waters to the icy lakes of Maine, Let all exult, for we have met the enemy again. Beneath their stern old mountains we have met them in their pride; And rolled from Buena Vista back the battle's bloody tide, Where the enemy came surging swift like the Mississippi's flood, And the Reaper, Dearth, with strong arms swung his sickle red with blood. Santa Anna boasted loudly that before two hours went past His lancers through Saltillo should pursue us fierce and fast. On comes his solid infantry, line marching after line. Lo! their great standards in the sun like sheets of silver shine. - Battle of Buena Vista [War]
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