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The Chase

Freed from the lingering chase, in devious ways, Upon the swelling tides, swiftly the "Lilian" glides, Through hostile shells and eager foemen past; The lynx-eyed pilot gazing through the haze, And engines straining, fair hope dawns at last. Now falls in billows deep the welcome night, Upon white sands below; while signal lamps aglow, Seek out Fort Fisher's distant answering gleams, The blockade runner's keen, supreme delight, Dear Dixie Land, the haven of our dreams!

James Sprunt Tales of the Cape Fear Blockade

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