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came upon the morning wind One loud and thrilling tone, And distant hills sent forth their voice,— The trumpet-call was blown.

And sterner grew each stately brow As that war-blast pass'd by, And redder grew each warrior cheek, Brighter each warrior eye.

But other cheeks grew pale to hear, And other eyes grew dim; Woman shares not man's battle joy— That joy is all for him.

The same blast lights the glance of flame, Darkens the martial frown; At which a woman's rose-lip fades,— At which her heart sinks down.