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Winfield Scott.


A flag is floating free and clear,
A star is rising high,
And shouts of heart-felt joy we hear,
Reechoed to the sky.
Columbia's bird up soars afar,
And finds a loftier spot --
For on that flag, and in that star,
Is hailed the name of SCOTT.

A name that far and near is known,
From hall to humble cot;
No man has e'er more brightly shone
Than that of WINFIELD SCOTT.
To vict'ry he has led his hosts --
Britain to him has bowed;
Of him his country proudly boasts,
Full well might she feel proud.

And who can breathe a taunting word
We love the noble brave --
We love the man who sheds his blood,
His country's rights to save.
And such is he, our gallant SCOTT,
Victor in every fight!
A patriot true, he's bravely fought,
'Gainst wrong -- protecting right!

Though fully laurel'd is his brow,
And tow'ring now his fame;
Our "highest gift" we offer now,
In th' glorious old Whig name.
Like him, we'll never be defied,
By low, base party plot,
For he shall be our country's guide,
Our own loved WINFIELD SCOTT.