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A ballad-maker's pack
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THE
RUSH
OF
THE
& quot;OREGON & quot;
THEY
held
her
South
to
Magellan
s
mouth,
Then
East
they
steered
her,
forth
Through
the
farther
gate
of
the
crafty
strait,
And
then
they
held
her
North.
Six
thousand
miles
to
the
Indian
Isles!
And
the
Oregon
rushed
home,
Her
wake
a
swirl
of
jade
and
pearl,
Her
bow
a
bend
of
foam.
And
when
at
Rio
the
cable
sang,
& quot;There
is
war,
there
is
war
with
Spain! & quot;
The
swart
crews
grinned
and
stroked
their
guns
And
thought
of
the
mangled
Maine.
In
the
glimmered
gloom
of
the
engine
room
There
was
joy
to
each
grimy
soul,
And
fainting
men
sprang
up
again
And
heaped
the
blazing
coal.
[179]
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